


Like Real People Do

by dharmaavocado



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Magical Realism, background Ahsoka Tano/Steela Gerrera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:28:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27314086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dharmaavocado/pseuds/dharmaavocado
Summary: “Your highness!”There was no answer.  Rex pulled out the milk and sugar.  “I don’t think he heard you.”“Hey, your worshipfulness!” she shouted, loud enough Rex winced.After another pause, Obi-Wan called back, “I know you’re well aware that the proper address for a duke is your grace.”“Well, if your grace would be so kind as to get his dukely ass down here to fix your shit, I’d appreciate it.”“Am I allowed to put on trousers first?” Obi-Wan asked.Ahsoka glanced to him and said, “Absolutely not.”In which there are titles, houses, and homes.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/CT-7567 | Rex
Comments: 44
Kudos: 418
Collections: Fandom Trumps Hate 2020





	Like Real People Do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cl410](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cl410/gifts).



> Title taken from the Hozier song of the same name. I, too, am surprised it took me this long to pillage Hozier lyrics for titles.
> 
> Part of Fandom Trumps Hate 2020 written for cl410, who requested a full fic of this [trope mashup fill](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23296810/chapters/55838218).
> 
> Big thanks to Nocumii, who read every single unfinished draft I shoved at her without complaint and was always encouraging. Big thanks also to bluemaskedkarma/jynx, who spent months putting with my whining as I slowly wrote this and was nothing but supportive. I love you both.

Rex and Ahsoka returned from their morning run to find half the kitchen replaced with a stretch of shoreline, empty but for the occasional bird flying overhead.

“I see he’s back to oceans,” Ahsoka said, hand pressed to her side. She never properly stretched and usually suffered at least one cramp.

“Apparently,” Rex said, edging up to the threshold. Obi-Wan would never leave one open if there was the slightest chance of danger, but Rex had made it this long by developing a healthy sense of caution.

The sand looked normal enough and moved normal enough when he scuffed some back over the threshold. The ocean was another matter. The waves were cresting high, but instead to the usual white tip, these were a pale purple. So not anywhere local, which fit the pattern; Obi-Wan was just as likely as to open a threshold in this world as he was to another. He seemed to delight in taking them to new and strange lands.

But wherever this beach was it still smelled the same, salt and brine and hot sand, and he was suddenly so homesick it was as if Ahsoka had sucker punched him in the chest.

“This is going to take us forever to clean up,” Ahsoka said with an aggrieved sigh. “This shit gets everywhere.”

And she wouldn’t be able to bring home a girl until they swept it out, which Rex suspected might be the real source of her irritation as she usually found Obi-Wan’s antics amusing. Or it would be if she got over herself and asked Steela out. Not that he had much of a moral high ground on that.

“Could be worse,” Rex said. The coffee machine remained untouched, and a quick check showed that someone, Obi-Wan most likely, had added fresh grounds. He turned it on and then did the same for the electric kettle. “Remember when he left that jungle one open? Those vines were aggressive.”

Ahsoka made a face. They had hacked away for hours and still occasionally found the errant leaf curled in the odd corner. Rex really felt for the tenants that moved in after them.

“Don’t remind me,” she said, heading towards the stairs. “Hey, Obi-Wan!”

There was no answer. Rex cocked his head, trying to hear anything over the steady wash of waves. “He could be in the shower.”

She kicked off her shoes so that they lay in an untidy heap at the bottom of the stairs for Obi-Wan to trip over. She was in a silent war with him over their vastly different views on tidiness. Rex had quickly declared himself Switzerland in the hopes neutrality would protect him from any outbreaks of hostility. It rarely did.

“Of course he is,” she said with a roll of her eyes; Obi-Wan could and had used up all the hot water. “Your highness!”

There was no answer. Rex pulled out the milk and sugar. “I don’t think he heard you.”

“Hey, your worshipfulness!” she shouted, loud enough Rex winced.

After another pause, Obi-Wan called back, “I know you’re well aware that the proper address for a duke is your grace.”

“Well, if _your grace_ would be so kind as to get his dukely ass down here to fix your shit, I’d appreciate it.”

“Am I allowed to put on trousers first?” Obi-Wan asked.

Ahsoka glanced to him and said, “Absolutely not.”

Which did nothing to explain why Obi-Wan joined them in nothing but a towel knotted around his waist.

Ahsoka’s eyebrows rose. “Huh, didn’t think you’d actually listen to me.”

“You made it sound urgent,” Obi-Wan said with more dignity than a man with wet hair should be able to manage. “What is it?”

“Well, there’s that, for a start,” she said, pointing at the open threshold. “Forget something?”

“For once, I did not.”

Ahsoka’s eyebrows arched in disbelief. The last time Obi-Wan forgot to close a threshold, Fives wandered through into a forest where the giant trees were dotted with bioluminescent lights. It had been sheer luck Rex had been there to pull him out before he got lost.

“I thought that perhaps you might enjoy this one,” Obi-Wan added, and if Rex didn’t know better he’d say Obi-Wan was nervous.

“So you just, what, didn’t want to reopen it?” Ahsoka said, glancing back over the alien beach.

Obi-Wan sighed. “I have explained that it’s not as simple as that. I can’t just close and open them at will. It’s not a door.”

“The two locations have to align,” Rex said as the coffee finished brewing. The kettle wouldn’t be far behind. “And I’m guessing that given both spatial and temporal drift, if you close it there’s no guarantee you’ll even be able to find it again.”

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, surprised. “Yes, that’s it.”

“Some of us listen,” Rex said with a pointed look to Ahsoka, who rolled her eyes.

“Out of curiosity,” Ahsoka said, “but were you planning on taking us like that? I’m not complaining if that’s the case.”

Obi-Wan glanced down at himself and flushed an uneven and blotchy red. There was still errant drops of water dripping from his hair onto his bare shoulders, and Rex was doing an admirable job of pretending not to see them.

“I beg your patience while I go dress,” Obi-Wan said, backing up. The more flustered he became the more formal his speech grew.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll wait,” Ahsoka said.

His Grace Obi-Wan Kenobi was too well mannered to do anything as crass as roll his eyes, but he implied it in a way that made Rex’s inherited ancestral hated of the aristocracy raise its hackles. “You are extremely kind,” he said and then retreated with a regal air.

“Nice view,” Ahsoka said once Obi-Wan had gone. At his pointed look, she said, “What? Just because I don’t want to fuck him doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate what he’s got going on.”

“Uh-huh,” Rex said, pulling out three traveler mugs. After a moment of consideration he went to the refrigerator. If they were going to the beach they might as well make a day of it. “You’re on sandwich duty.”

She sighed but obediently began to lay out bread while Rex poured the coffee and tea into the respective mugs. “You know,” she said, peeling off some lettuce, “this was fun for me in the beginning, but you two can’t play this game forever.”

“No idea what you’re talking about.” He pulled out the jar of honey, frowning. He could have sworn they had more than this. Obi-Wan must have been using more, which meant he wasn’t sleeping again, instead making too many cups of tea. Damn.

“Of course you don’t.” Ahsoka pointed a knife at him. “One of you is going to slip up eventually, and I will be there when you do.”

“Didn’t know you were into that,” Rex said, and then dodged to the side when she tried to hit him with the flat of the knife. “Finish those and go move your shoes before someone does trip over them.”

“I really feel for your brothers,” she complained, but for once did as he asked.

The floorboards creaked as Obi-Wan made his way back towards them. Rex could always tell it was him; he moved differently from everyone else.

“Hey,” Ahsoka said gently, bumping their shoulders together as they waited for Obi-Wan to appear. “Why aren’t you making a move? This isn’t like you.”

It wasn’t, and she would know. Ahsoka probably knew him better than his own brothers at this point. He normally wasn’t shy about letting his interest be known.

Into a large tote bag he packed away the thermoses and the sandwiches and a large blanket for them to sit on. Last in was sunscreen for Obi-Wan. “He’s not staying. Once his time’s up, he’s going home.”

“I almost forgot about that part.”

“Yeah,” he said as Obi-Wan stepped lightly down the stairs. “Me too.”

Obi-Wan paused briefly and said, “Thank you for moving your shoes.”

“Rex made me,” Ahsoka said.

“Ah.” Obi-Wan smiled at him, the corners of his eyes gently creasing. “Well, thank you, Rex.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, and nudged Ahsoka towards the threshold before she could say anything. “Are we ready?”

The breeze blew Obi-Wan’s fringe away from his face as he said, arm extended as if beckoning them into a stately manor, “After you.”

And so he and Ahsoka stepped through the threshold and into a strange new land.

* * *

Rex wasn’t one to believe in fate, and so he chalked it up to dumb luck that it had been Obi-Wan who arrived that morning with the housing ad in one hand and a polite smile in place while Rex, dying from a hangover, squinted at him. In the light, Obi-Wan’s hair had shone a burnished red.

“The what?” Rex croaked.

“Your advertisement.” Obi-Wan handed over the ad he had printed out and annotated in a neat hand, and which Rex was pretty sure he and Ahsoka had posted only a few hours ago. “I will admit that while I’ve not had the opportunity to become proficient at ‘washing up,’ I’m quite confident it’s a skill I’ll be able to master.”

That was a lot of words to make sense of and his blinding headache from a night of drinking the terrible concoctions he’d let Ahsoka mix even though he knew better wasn’t helping. He was not particularly proud of what came next.

“I have no idea what you’re saying, but you might want to back up. I have to vomit now.” He proceeded to lean over the side of the stoop to do just that.

It was only polite to invite Obi-Wan in after that and offer him coffee, especially since Rex hadn’t managed to frighten him off.

“No, thank you,” Obi-Wan said as Rex, digging out the coffee grounds, leaned away from the smell. He’d feel better once he drank it, but before then the aroma threatened to turn his stomach again.

“Tea?” Rex suggest, hazarding a guess based on Obi-Wan’s posh accent.

“If you would be so kind.”

And so Rex dragged the electric kettle from the back of a cabinet and went foraging for the box of tea he and Ahsoka kept on hand for when one of them succumbed to a cold.

“Tano!” he hollered, and immediately winced as his own voice ricocheted loudly around his head. He tried again, but softer. “Get in here.”

Both the coffee maker and electric kettle gurgled away as a series of fitful and painful sounding thumps heralded Ahsoka’s arrival. She staggered into the kitchen, her braids twisted in a wild halo around her head, and said, “Are we dead?”

“No.” He went looking for the milk and sugar.

“Damn.” Ahsoka took a seat and laid her head on the table, eyes already sliding shut again. “Rex?”

“Yes?”

“Why is there a white boy in our house at—” she squinted balefully in the direction of the clock only to visibly give up on reading it—“extremely fucking early?”

“He’s answering the ad.” The electric kettle finished first, and he poured the water over the teabag for Obi-Wan. “The one we posted.”

“Oh. Right. The ad.” Ahsoka’s nose wrinkled when Rex set the cup before Obi-Wan. “Oh god, you’re a tea drinker?”

“My apologies,” Obi-Wan said as he sedately added some milk and sugar.

“Ugh.” She turned a pitiful look on him. “Can there be coffee?”

“There can be,” Rex said, pouring two cups, “but you have to sit up.”

She made a sad noise but heaved herself upright, one hand opening and closely weakly until he handed her the mug. She didn’t bother adding anything to it, just drinking it black and probably burning her tongue.

“Better?” he asked, taking the time to add sugar and a little milk to his.

She made noise that bordered on vulgar. Obi-Wan looked alarmed, but Rex, used to Ahsoka’s reaction to the first cup of the coffee of the day, took a seat and waited for her to remember they had company.

“So,” she said, “you want to move in.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said.

“With us.”

“Yes,” he repeated.

Ahsoka took another drink. “Because of the ad.”

“Still yes.” Obi-Wan seemed amused. “Are you expecting another answer?”

Rex had vague memories of him and Ahsoka sitting before his battered laptop, taking turns to add to the long and increasingly absurd list of requirements for a housemate. When he hesitated at posting, Ahsoka had said, “It’s either this or we move back to base. Fives is looking for a roommate. Your choice.”

He’d hit submit.

In the brutal and punishing light of day, Rex could admit the list made them seem like unhinged psychopaths that no one in their right mind would want to share a house with. At least no one but Obi-Wan, who was peaceably stirring his tea, careful that the spoon didn’t clink against the sides and aggravate their aching heads.

That was Rex’s first impression of Obi-Wan, that he was thoughtful.

“There is one thing you should know.” Obi-Wan set the spoon so that it sat perfectly perpendicular to the cup. Later Rex would learn it’d been from nerves; the more unmoored Obi-Wan felt the more he fell back on formal social conventions.

With one precise movement, he held out his hands to reveal the binding sigils carved on his palms, the curved lines still raised and red as if only recently done. Rex, an older brother through and through, resisted the urge to bring out the first aid kit.

“You’re a Neighbor,” Rex said while Ahsoka inhaled very quietly.

“I am,” Obi-Wan agreed.

“And you want to live _here?”_ Ahsoka gestured towards the empty cups and bottles lining the counter and the piles of laundry kicked into the corner. It was not, Rex was forced to admit, a ringing endorsement.

“Well,” Obi-Wan said, amused, “the advertisement did state the house comes with a high volume of books and a—how did you put it?” He consulted the printout. “Ah, yes. ‘A housemate with a nearly pathological need to feed everyone in a one hundred klik radius and who also doesn’t complain if you leave your shoes everywhere although you really shouldn’t put them at the bottom of the stairs. Yes, I know you’re doing it.’”

“I do know you’re doing it,” Rex said, pressing a knuckled between his eyes in hopes it would lessen the pounding in his head. “I told you to take that out.”

“The shoe thing?” Ahsoka said with wide, guileless eyes.

“No. The other part.”

“Why would I? It’s true.” She smiled at his scowl, knowing that meant she’d won. “We’ll need the first two months rent.”

“Excuse us.” He kicked Ahsoka under the table until she stood with a sigh.

Obi-Wan was rummaging in his jacket pocket. “Take your time.”

“Before you start,” Ahsoka said once they were out in the hall, “he’s a _Neighbor_. When are we ever going to have this chance again? And don’t tell me you don’t care. I know you do.”

Rex did, not that he was going to admit it. “You know what those marks on his hands mean? They’re binding sigils.”

“You nerd.”

“That,” he continued pointedly, “is a serious form of censure. He could be dangerous.”

“ _We’re_ dangerous,” she said, which would have been more impressive if the wall weren’t the only thing holding them upright. “We can handle him. And having a white boy living here will raise the property value.”

“We want to avoid that.”

“Fair point.” She jabbed a sharp finger into his chest. “But look at that ad we posted. The only other people who want to live here are going to be drug dealers or, god help us, art students.”

They fell silent, contemplating that horror. Rex glanced back at the table where Obi-Wan sat, carefully rearranging the milk and sugar so they sat exactly equidistant from all three seats.

“Fine,” he said, giving in. “But I’m not going to stop him if tries to murder you in your sleep.”

“Rex,” she said seriously, “I’m pretty sure he’ll go for you first.”

He tugged on a braid, making her yelp, and causing Obi-Wan to twist around in mild alarm.

“Everything all right?” he asked.

“Yes,” Rex said, giving one last tug for good measure before heading back in. “What’s with that?” A drawstring pouch was set precisely in the middle of the table.

“The two months requested rent,” Obi-Wan answered, and tugged on the string to reveal the damn thing was full of gold coins.

Rex stared blankly at it, exhausted. “Our landlord is not going to accept that.”

“He can exchange it,” Ahsoka said, unconcerned. She propped her chin on her hand. “So is it true that Neighbors have, like, powers?”

“Some of us have talents, yes,” Obi-Wan agreed, a touch of wariness to the words.

“Don’t suppose you can do anything for this hangover?” she asked hopefully.

“Unfortunately, healing is not my purview.” Obi-Wan looked thoughtful before adding, “But perhaps this will help.”

And then with quick, precise motions, he unlaced a threshold, just large enough that delicate ice crystals and a strong gust of cold air blew right into their faces.

That was Rex’s second impression of Obi-Wan, that he was a little shit.

“Wow,” Ahsoka said, blinking. “That’s going to come in handy. When can you move in?”

“Today, if that’s not a problem,” Obi-Wan said.

And that was that; they had a Neighbor for a housemate.

* * *

Ever since the first time he stepped over a threshold, Rex expected to feel it, like an electric shock or the kickback of a rifle. He didn’t, of course. Most things weren’t as you expected.

One moment he was in the kitchen of their house and the next he was on the beach, the sand already creeping into his shoes, terribly aware of the distance they traveled. It had been like the first time he shipped out, the knowledge that this was the furthest he’d ever been from home wrapping tight around him. He wondered if it was the same for Obi-Wan, if he constantly knew how truly far away he was.

When they walked a few meters along the beach, Obi-Wan said, “This will do.”

Rex pulled out the blanket, and as he shook it out, Ahsoka caught the other end, and together they spread it out on the sand, the corners anchored with the shoes they kicked off. The sand wasn’t softer or coarser than what was found on their beaches; it just felt like sand.

“Here.” He tossed the sunscreen to Obi-Wan as they all sat. “Put it on.”

Obi-Wan made a face; he kept forgetting he could get sunburned now. Rex had to keep reminding himself not to find it endearing.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said once Rex had passed out the thermoses and the sandwiches. “You know how I take my tea.”

“Milk and sugar,” Rex answered. “It’s not that complicated.”

“Yes, but you got the ratios correct,” Obi-Wan said, pleased, and Rex refused to acknowledge Ahsoka’s eyebrows.

“You’ve been doing a lot of beaches lately,” she said instead, an odd emphasis to the words.

“Have I?” Obi-Wan turned thoughtful. “I don’t think so. I opened the threshold to that cave two weeks ago.”

“You really have,” Rex said because he had noticed it as well.

Obi-Wan usually preferred forests to the sea judging by how many times he and Ahsoka would come home to find various rooms replaced with trees that stretched so far up they blocked out the light from twin suns. Or sometimes they’d find a great plain of grass and grain stretching from east to west, swaying in the wind, so vast that it could easily be mistaken for the ocean.

And one night, when they all had too much to drink, Obi-Wan opened a threshold to an endless desert full of crystals that crested from the dunes and filtered the starlight into something new and terrifying and beautiful.

“Ah,” Obi-Wan said. “Well. Change can be beneficial.”

“Sure,” Ahsoka said, eyebrows even more pointed.

“What did you want to show us?” Rex asked.

“Watch,” Obi-Wan said.

He and Ahsoka turned their attention to the waves, which seemed to have grown darker, the pale purple bleeding to a deep violent.

“What am I supposed to be watching?” Ahsoka asked.

“There,” Obi-Wan said, and pointed.

Rex shielded his eyes and followed the line of Obi-Wan’s arm to what seemed to be sunlight refracting off the water.

“I don’t see anything,” Ahsoka said, and then, “Wait, what is that?”

The light twitched upwards, leaping into the air before diving back down. That patch of water went unnaturally still before there appeared another light. And then there was another and then another after that, on and on until that patch of ocean shone so brightly that even Ahsoka, aviators in place, had to look away.

Rex was still blinking when Obi-Wan placed a dry palm over his eyes. “My apologies. I forgot how it can blind in this form.”

When Obi-Wan removed his hand, Rex could clearly see the ocean and the light still boiling along the surface. It wasn’t muted like if he were wearing sunglasses; it was as if the glare had simply been turned off.

“Huh,” he said as Obi-Wan did the same for Ahsoka. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Obi-Wan drew his legs towards the chest, arms draped over his knees.

“Thought you said you didn’t have that kind of talent,” Ahsoka said, aviators hooked in her shirt.

“While I can’t undo consequences of heavy drinking,” Obi-Wan said, amused, “this is merely a change in perspective.”

“Is it permanent?” Rex asked.

“No. It’ll last just long enough for—ah, it’s beginning. Watch.”

As if waiting for Obi-Wan’s cue, the lights arced up into the air. No, not lights, sea creatures. It was hard to tell from a distance, but they roughly resembled jellyfishes with long trailing tendrils and round bodies that flattened as they glided through the air.

They leapt and dove and then leapt again, searching for a thermal to buoy them upwards. One of the creatures came upon it, and shook its tendrils in a complicated manner to signal its brethren. Another creature banked and followed, its tendrils unfurling to beckon others. And then all of the creatures were following, climbing higher and higher, their tendrils locked together to form a giant, billowing cloud of light that was lost to the glare of the sun.

“Okay,” Ahsoka said softly, “that was amazing.”

“I thought you’d enjoy it,” said Obi-Wan, clearly pleased.

“What was it?” Rex asked, searching for the last sign of the creatures.

“The annual migration.” Obi-Wan’s head was tipped back, like he also was still trying to track the creatures. “They were born here, but due to the burgeoning population and the stress of finite resources, once they reach maturity they leave to find a new ocean and make a new home.”

“That’s very interesting,” Ahsoka said with a pointed look to him.

“It is,” Rex agreed, and made the mistake of meeting her gaze, daring her to say more.

Never one to back down, Ahsoka smiled. “It’s almost like an apt metaphor for something.”

“If you want to get literary about it,” Obi-Wan said before Rex could do more than glare.

“Which we don’t,” Rex said, knuckling one eye as the effect faded.

Ahsoka snorted and put her aviators back on. “Since when?”

“Since now.” He poked her in the side, right where she was sensitive, and she predictably twitched away with an annoyed huff.

She pulled her shirt off, tossing it aside and leaving her only in her sports bra. She laid back and made herself comfortable, one arm behind her head and the other draped over her stomach as she sunned herself.

He tossed the sunscreen at her. “You’re not immune to sun damage.” She made a face but slathered some all, which was all he asked for. To Obi-Wan, he asked, “You’ve been here before?”

“Oh, years ago.” Obi-Wan picked up the thermos, more likely for the warmth as he made no move to drink his tea. He had confided once that his hands ached from the sigils and that heat helped ease it, and ever since Rex made sure to keep a stock of hand warmers in the house for when Obi-Wan needed them. “And I looked different then, of course.”

“What do you look like?” Ahsoka asked. “You’ve never told us.”

“It’s not nearly as interesting as whatever you’re imagining.” Obi-Wan smiled, rueful. “I’m quite plain, if you want the truth.”

“Pretty sure you aren’t,” Rex said before he could think better of it. He didn’t need to look over to know that Ahsoka’s eyebrows were practically screaming at him. “I mean, you’re fine. You look fine.”

“Oh my god,” Ahsoka said very quietly.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan said, and it was hard to tell if the redness across the back of his neck was from embarrassment or the sun. Probably the sun, given how he was starting to freckle. “But I promise it’s nothing like what you’re thinking.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Ahsoka said, clearly unconvinced but not pushing it. She was careful when it came to Obi-Wan, and because she could be exceedingly kind in her own way, she added, “Rent’s due soon. Do you have real money or are you going to pay in doubloons again?”

“They’re not doubloons, as you very well know,” Obi-Wan said, exasperated.

“Didn’t actually answer her question,” Rex pointed out.

Obi-Wan gave him an annoyed look. “I’ll go to the embassy to exchange it tomorrow.”

“You want some company?” He studiously began cleaning up their mess.

“I won’t say no if you’re offering.”

“I’m offering.” He flicked sand at Ahsoka when she made a strangled noise.

“Well,” Obi-Wan said, smiling when Rex chanced a glance, “yes, I would like the company.”

“I have meetings in the morning, but I’ll can go after.”

“It’s a date, as they say,” Obi-Wan said.

“Jesus Christ,” Ahsoka muttered.

“Seen Steela lately?” Rex asked.

“Fuck off,” Ahsoka muttered.

Rex nudged her in the side until she shifted over, making space for him to lie next to her. “You, too,” he said to Obi-Wan, who sighed but followed suit, the three of them laid out in a row. “Thanks for bringing us here.”

“You’re welcome,” Obi-Wan said. “To be honest, I very much wanted to share this with you.”

Despite Obi-Wan’s more maddening aristocratic tendencies, he could be devastatingly sincere at times, and Rex never knew how to respond.

Ahsoka didn’t suffer from the same problem, and she said, “Of course you did. We’re delightful.” But she stretched an arm out over Rex’s stomach so she could give Obi-Wan’s arm a friendly pat and then left it there, loosely holding on to him.

“Delightful might be a step too far,” Obi-Wan said dryly, “but you’re pleasant enough company.”

Rex felt more than saw Ahsoka’s eye roll. “We’re so glad you’re here, aren’t we?” She paired the last with a pointed nudge to his ankle.

“Yeah,” Rex said, clearing his throat. “We are.”

Thankfully Obi-Wan was worse at genuine emotion than him, and a companionable quiet lapped in as they basked in the warmth of an alien sun.

* * *

Here was what Rex did not tell Obi-Wan: he was not the first Neighbor Rex had met.

Before he was born, before his mother even met his father, she befriended a Neighbor with pale skin and dark hair, and for three years and a day they traveled together.

And for that entire time his mother never learned what Neighbors looked like. No one knew, or if they did, they never spoke of it. Neighbors had been passing through the world as long as people had been around to witness their tracks.

For three years and a day, his mother and the Neighbor walked along old ocean ridges and thick forest canopies and through the great grain plains bleached from white suns.

And then on that second day, they parted, his mother going one way and the Neighbor another. His mother met his father, and then, in the manner of those things, Rex was born.

The Neighbor returned only once when Rex was no older than four and his mother was pregnant with Keeli. He didn’t remember, as young as he was, but his mother told him the Neighbor had touched his hair, blond like his maternal grandmother, and said, “You’re right. He’s lovely.”

What happed after that was none of his business, but the result was the same: his mother stayed and the Neighbor did not.

“Where did she go?” Rex had asked, once.

“Back to her home,” his mother answered, “and I stayed here in mine.”

* * *

His and Obi-Wan’s respective worlds existed close enough to touch, and in those places where they did embassies were built. Rex always expected their local one to be more impressive than it actually was. It was built on the intersection between two worlds, and if anything called for a bit of dramatic architecture it was that, but apparently bureaucracies were the same everywhere, and the embassy was like any other government building: drab and utilitarian and easily passed over. It was a misdirection, but not exactly a surprising one. He did live with Obi-Wan, after all.

The wind kicked up as he crossed the street. A storm was blowing in, judging by the clouds piling along the horizon. It’d been awhile since they had a proper one, and with any luck he and Obi-Wan would be back home to enjoy it when it rolled in.

“Hello there,” Obi-Wan said from the embassy steps, a takeaway cup in each hand. He looked appealingly windswept with a scarf wrapped loosely about his neck. It was still early autumn, but Obi-Wan ran cold.

“You got coffee?” Rex asked.

Obi-Wan passed over a cup. “It’s that ridiculous concoction you refuse to admit you like.”

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Rex said, taking an appreciative sip. Obi-Wan must have caught Ed at the end of her shift; she was the only one who got the syrup ratio correct. “This feels like a bribe.”

“Bribe is such a strong word.” Obi-Wan’s smile went tight. “Think of it as a token of my appreciation for you accompanying me today.”

That was a lot of words for Obi-Wan to admit he didn’t want to go alone.

“You know I don’t mind,” Rex said. “I wouldn’t have offered if I did.”

That was true. Even if he wasn’t curious about the Neighbors, he would never let Obi-Wan face this on his own, not when the man wore his pain on the tender skin of his palms.

“And you want to learn us,” Obi-Wan said.

“Doesn’t everyone?”

“You’d be surprised,” Obi-Wan said with a rueful smile, and then made a show of gallantly holding the door open for Rex to forestall that conversational line.

“I know what you’re doing,” Rex said.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” Obi-Wan replied in a piss poor imitation of his accent.

“No one likes your smart mouth.”

“I find that quite difficult to believe,” Obi-Wan said in a lofty tone that reminded Rex that he was still a titled twat. He would be more annoyed if Obi-Wan hadn’t given him a conspiratorial look, as if Rex was in on the joke.

Rex didn’t trust himself not to sound like a besotted idiot, and so he kept silent as he entered the embassy. It was like stepping over one of Obi-Wan’s thresholds; he was suddenly and terribly aware that this was not his home.

The interior wasn’t much better than the outside. The walls and floor were an institutional white that was fading to gray. There was a single hallway that led back into the building, and that was blocked by a long wooden counter staffed by a single guard, who nodded respectfully to Obi-Wan.

“You’re expected, your grace,” the guard said even as xir gray eyes settled on Rex. “I assume Captain Waitoa is your guest.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said firmly.

“You are welcome here, Captain,” the guard said as xe slid back a section of the counter for them to pass through, “and are afforded all the hospitalities and protections as our guest.”

“Thank you,” Rex answered, knowing his part. “I accept your hospitality and will abide by your customs.”

“Then be welcomed,” the guard said, and so Rex was.

Rex followed Obi-Wan through to the hallway. As they passed through, the interior changed, not only in the way the corridor stretched out longer than should be possible given the building’s dimensions but in how the floor shifted from white industrial tile to an intricate mosaic of intersecting circles that looped back onto itself, over and over, until it was impossible to determine where it began, if there was even a beginning.

It did not escape him that the pattern was a perfect match to the binding on Obi-Wan’s palms.

“Almost there,” Obi-Wan said, as if a glance back wouldn’t show them hardly a few meters from where they began. It wasn’t quite a trick, but all the same Rex couldn’t quite suppress a shiver of wonder, the same kind he felt every time Obi-Wan opened a threshold.

There were branching corridors off the main one, each opening to a rather mundane office filled with staff working at their desks. Nothing out of the ordinary. Misdirection, Rex reminded himself, and drank his coffee as he kept pace with Obi-Wan.

“Ah, here we are,” Obi-Wan said, and turned down a hallway that was identical to the dozens they already passed. It ended in a door with frosted glass. There were letters stenciled on, although Rex didn’t recognize the language; it consisted of almost entirely of circles.

The door opened onto waiting area with couches lines along one wall under the warm lights. A young woman with markings similar to _moko_ on her chin glanced up. “Your grace,” she said.

“Barriss, how lovely to see you,” said Obi-Wan. “I’m just here for the currency exchange.”

“Yes, of course.” She passed over an envelope. “But a moment of your time, your grace. Lady Luminara will be with you in a moment.”

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows rose. “I was unaware we had a scheduled meeting.”

“It’s nothing so formal.” Barriss hesitated, worrying her lower lip. She leaned close and dropped her voice. “It’s in regards to your brother.”

“My—” Obi-Wan blinked rapidly. “Ah. Yes. I see.”

“We’re happy to wait,” Rex said when Obi-Wan trailed off. “Thank you.”

Barriss gestured to the couches, and Rex steered Obi-Wan towards the far one with a hand to the small of his back. Barriss made a show of turning her attention back to the papers stacked neatly on her desk.

Satisfied that she was giving them the semblance of privacy, Rex sat Obi-Wan down, and said, “All right?”

That rapid blink again. “I’m quite well, Rex. Thank you for your concern.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” he said, keeping his tone gentle, although it still caused Obi-Wan to startle. “Are you really okay?”

For a moment it seemed Obi-Wan would fall back on habitual politeness, but instead he bowed his head, and said, “I’m not sure. I think it depends on what Luminara has to say.”

Rex hesitated for a moment, feeling foolish, before settling a hand along the back of Obi-Wan’s neck. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t done for Ahsoka and his brothers countless times before. He was offering a measure of comfort. There was no reason for it to feel differently now.

Under his hand, Obi-Wan’s tension eased on a slow sigh.

“I doubt it’s bad news,” he said.

Obi-Wan snorted. “You don’t know Anakin.”

That was true. This was what the sum total of what Rex knew: Obi-Wan had a brother, and the brother was named Anakin. Obi-Wan rarely spoke of him and he certainly didn’t have any pictures. And why would he? Neighbors didn’t take too photographs.

But on Obi-Wan’s palms, in the center of the sigils, was a raised line of scars that had nothing to do with the binding. It was, if Rex had to guess, a remembrance, the same as how he carried Keeli’s name on his skin.

Rex cleared his throat. “He can’t be worse than Boba.”

Obi-Wan smiled. “I’m certain Anakin can put up quite the challenge.”

“Depends on if Anakin was also a surly teenager.”

“Oh, he was,” Obi-Wan said in that particular tone of exasperated older brother. “He delighted in making everything more difficult than need be.”

“Sounds like a teenager,” Rex agreed, and gave Obi-Wan a fond shake, which was when Luminara stepped out.

She was a graceful woman with markings similar to Barriss’ curling up her chin. “Obi-Wan,” she said with a warm smile, “it is a pleasure to see you again. And you as well, Captain.”

Obi-Wan tensed, undoing all his hard work. Rex swallowed a sigh. “Ma’am,” he said, rescuing envelop and cup from Obi-Wan’s lax grip. “Am I correct in assuming this meeting is a private one?”

“I’m afraid so,” she answered, sounding genuinely apologetic as she tucked her hands into the long sleeves of her robe.

Obi-Wan stood and attempted to mimic her stance out of reflex only to belatedly realize his sleeves would not allow it. Instead he folded his hands behind his back, spine going stiff and straight. “He is still afforded all the protections as our—your guest.”

“Of course,” Luminara said. “If you please wait out here, Captain. I won’t keep him long.”

“I’m in no hurry,” Rex said, and put on a show of making himself comfortable.

“I’ll be back,” Obi-Wan said, pressing his knuckles to Rex’s shoulder before following Luminara back the way she came.

When they were gone, he glanced to Barriss, who met his gaze before ducking her head. “I don’t believe it’s ill news,” she said, “if that’s a comfort.”

“It is,” he said and pulled out his mobile. He still had a signal, and so he started going through his email. When he took this posting, he hadn’t expected the amount of paperwork that came with it.

He had just finished reading through Fives’ latest report, which hardly needed any correcting, when a woman flung open the door as if it offended her and strode into the office, head held high and proud.

“It’s done,” she said, and tossed a packet onto Barriss’ desk.

“Our thanks, Lady Ventress,” Barriss said.

Ventress’ back was to him, and so all he had to go on was the way Barriss leaned back with her hands flat on her desk. Rex set aside his coffee but kept up the act that his attention was solely on his mobile.

“My lady,” Barriss said, a note of warning to her voice. Ventress scoffed but took a step back, and only then did Barriss reach into her desk, taking out another envelope, which she slid over. “You should rest before embarking on this. It’s more,” she paused for a moment, “complex than your usual assignments.”

“I’m sure it is. The council wouldn’t have use of me for anything less.”

Barriss’ hands were back on the desk. “You agreed to these terms.”

“Agreed.” That was a definite sneer. “That does sound better than forced. I had no choice.”

“You did, even if it was a poor one,” Barriss said, causing Ventress to rear back. Barriss calmly gathered the packet Ventress had tossed on the desk. “You know the way out, my lady.”

Ventress spun on her heel, furious but still proud, and once Ventress’ back was to her, Barriss stood and retreated to where Luminara and Obi-Wan had gone. If Barriss was under his command, Rex would have chastised her for leaving herself vulnerable.

But he was only a guest, and so he was alone when Ventress’ attention settled on him.

“You must be Kenobi’s latest diversion,” Ventress said, angry stride softened to a glide as she slid closer.

“Do you need assistance, ma’am?” he asked, fixing her with the infuriatingly flat and polite stare he honed on various commanding officers.

She was near enough that Rex was forced to look up at her. She was striking, which wasn’t unusual for a Neighbor, but her pale skin was. There were stark lines stretching from her chin to her scalp. Above the collar of her shirt crawled sigils raised in dark, livid lines that looked hot to the touch. Rex recognized her type, angry and dangerous, who enjoyed dangling bait to those who didn’t know better. He, however, did.

“No,” she said, and leaned one hip against the arm of the couch. “But I can—how did you put it?— _assist_ you with a word of advice…” She trailed off, angling for his name.

He did not oblige her. “How generous of you, but I’m not in need of any.”

Her smile was a thin slice of teeth. “I find that hard to believe. Tell me, has our dear Lady Unduli reassured herself and you that you weren’t put under Kenobi’s charm?”

Luminara had checked both him and Ahsoka for any influence when Obi-Wan first moved in. They had all been summoned via a letter sealed with wax to the embassy for just that purpose, although Luminara had taken great pains to explain this was standard procedure for any Neighbor spending any prolonged time in their world.

“You seem to know the answer,” Rex said.

“He wouldn’t, of course,” she said. “It would be very uncivilized, and that’s never been his family’s talent.”

“While I don’t want to be rude,” he said, “but what do you want?”

Ventress’ eyes widened in faux surprise. “That’s the wrong question. It’s not a matter of what I want.”

Rex bit back his irritation, already tired of this game. “So what’s the right question?”

“You should be asking what Kenobi what wants with you.” She leaned in close, something nearly hypnotic in her unblinking gaze. “He holds a title and his family has high standing with our council. It took quite a lot for them to punish him.” Her head cocked to the side. “Haven’t you wondered what he did to earn his exile to this shit hole?”

“Maybe,” he said, reaching for his coffee. He grabbed Obi-Wan’s tea by accident, but sipped it anyway. It was oddly soothing. “But that’s his business. Although if we’re being honest,” and here he leaned in to meet her, “it can’t be worse than what you did. Correct me if I’m wrong, ma’am, but those sigils strip you of any power and trap you in this form. You’re not even able to travel anymore, are you?”

She reared back and spat, “You have no idea what we are.”

He took another sip. It wasn’t that bad. He may have to revisit his opinion on tea. “I’m getting a pretty good idea of what you are.”

He may have pushed it too far. Ventress was cornered and furious, and Rex knew what such a person could do. He lifted his chin and waited to see what it would be.

“Ah, Lady Ventress, what a pleasant surprise,” Obi-Wan said, chillingly gracious as only he could be. “You must be here on council business.

“I am,” she answered, drawing back.

Obi-Wan’s polite smile didn’t falter. “It must be important if you’ve been called in. Please don’t let us detain you further.”

Rex’s dislike for the aristocracy, besides being inherited, was extremely legitimate, but he could admit no one did petty social slights like Obi-Wan. It was a pleasure to witness.

“You raise a good point, Kenobi,” Ventress said through what Rex suspected were gritted teeth. “I should take my leave.”

“‘Your grace,’” Rex said because he was his mother’s son. “That’s the correct address.”

He would have deserved it if she decided to take a swing at him, but Ventress only dipped her head and said, expression sour as if the very words were rotten in her mouth, “Your grace.” It must have cost her to show deference because she immediately spun on her heel and left at such a quick pace Rex almost felt a draft at her passing.

Once she was gone, Obi-Wan sighed. “Did you really have to provoke her?”

“Yes,” he answered. “And you’re just annoyed I beat you to it.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Obi-Wan said, which meant Rex correctly called it. He reached for the cup on the table.

“That’s mine,” Rex said, and passed over the tea.

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows rose. “I didn’t think you liked tea.”

He shrugged. “It’s growing on me. Everything okay?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said, although it wasn’t convincing, not with the way he pressed a knuckle to the bridge of his nose as if he was trying to ward off a headache. “I hope Ventress didn’t give you too much trouble.”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.” He tucked the envelope under his arm and steered Obi-Wan towards the door with a hand on his back. “I take it you have a history with her.”

Obi-Wan indelicately snorted. “We’ve had our differences, but we rarely cross paths now.”

Rex translated that to mean they’d been at each other’s throats and the council sent them to separate corners before they could kill each other.

“You should be careful,” Obi-Wan continued. “She has a spiteful streak and holds little affection for me.”

“I know the type.” They traced their steps back down the hallway. “Did you learn anything about your brother?” Obi-Wan nodded, but when nothing more was forthcoming, Rex said, “You want to get out of here?”

“Please,” Obi-Wan said gratefully, and Rex left his hand on Obi-Wan’s back as they exited the embassy to find the clouds had darkened to the color of a bruise.

* * *

Rex discovered the cafe the first month after moving. It was far enough away from downtown that most tourists avoided it. It was small and family run, and Rex had spent more than one afternoon drinking endless cups of coffee as he went through report after report.

The storm broke when they were exiting the taxi, and they made a run for it, Obi-Wan’s shoes sliding over the slick sidewalk before Rex steadied him, both of them breathless and near grinning when they finally made it inside. Areta, the owner’s eldest of three daughters, glanced up, silently judging them as only a teenage girl could.

“The usual?” she asked.

“Whatever soup you have on,” Rex said, distracted by the way Obi-Wan pushed his wet hair from his face. “And a pot of tea.”

“It really must be growing on you,” Obi-Wan said, following Rex to his favorite table in the back corner.

Rex shrugged and pulled out Obi-Wan’s chair for him. Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows but took a seat, nodding in thanks when Areta brought out a pot of tea and two cups, one of which was full of coffee, bless her, along with sugar and milk.

“Mum said it’s going to be a minute,” she said. “She’s just finishing up some bread.”

“Give her my thanks,” Rex said.

She didn’t bother with acknowledgement, not that Rex expected anyway, and retreated back behind the counter and the textbook she ignored in favor of her mobile.

“What?” Rex asked, aware of Obi-Wan’s thoughtful stare.

“You like it here,” Obi-Wan said.

He busied himself with spooning sugar into his coffee. “Reminds me of home.”

When he looked up, Obi-Wan’s face had gone soft. “I can see why,” said Obi-Wan, who had seen the pictures of Rex’s family. “It’s nice.”

“Yeah, it’s not bad.” Rex cleared his throat. “You want to talk about it now?”

And just like that Obi-Wan’s expression shuttered closed as he added milk and sugar to his tea, stirring industriously. “What did Ventress say to you?”

Rex automatically translated that to mean Obi-Wan did want to talk about it, but he had to work his way up to it. The best way to learn Obi-Wan was through his margins.

“She didn’t threaten me, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He took a sip of his coffee. “She made some insinuations.”

“Of course she did.” Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose.

Rex nudged Obi-Wan’s ankle with the tip of his shoe. “I know bullshit when I hear it.”

“I don’t know what I’ve done to earn your trust,” Obi-Wan said, devastatingly sincere as always, “but I don’t think I deserve it.”

“Point in case,” Rex said, swallowing hard. “More bullshit.”

That earned him a brief smile, there and gone. “She mentioned my banishment, didn’t she?”

“Yes. It’s a punishment, isn’t it?”

They’d never spoke of it, of the sigils carved on Obi-Wan’s hands and what he did to earn them. Rex hadn’t been lying; Obi-Wan’s business was his own, and as long as it brought no harm to him or Ahsoka, Rex was content to let it lie. Obi-Wan was a good man, of that he had no doubt.

“Yes.” Obi-Wan drank his tea without any sign of enjoyment, although Rex knew Areta made a good cup. “What I can do,” Obi-Wan said suddenly, “opening thresholds, my talent, it’s an inherited one, but not one dictated by blood.”

Rex let that sit for a moment as Areta returned with their soup. As promised, the bread was warm from the oven, and he expressed his gratitude, which, in the way of teenagers, she ignored with a roll of her eyes before leaving them to their meal.

“It’s learned, you mean,” he finally said. “You’re taught it.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “It helps if there is some natural ability, but it’s not completely necessary. Each family has their own talent they pass down.”

It was widely assumed that the talents were something innate to Neighbors, not a skill that could be passed along, like how Rex had taken piano lessons as a child. That meant Obi-Wan had been taught, and Rex tried to picture it, a young Obi-Wan practicing how to open thresholds, small fingers awkwardly fumbling through the correct movements. It was, as most things were with Obi-Wan, hopelessly endearing but probably only wishful thinking on his part.

“I have a lot of questions,” Rex said.

“Yes, I assumed you would,” Obi-Wan said with a fond smile.

Rex nudged him again. “I guess the most pressing one is why you’re bringing this up now.”

Obi-Wan dunked a bit of bread into the soup and said, “Ah, well, it’s pertinent information.”

“Pertinent how?”

Obi-Wan visibly steeled himself and said, “My brother is a Neighbor not by blood but by adoption.”

* * *

Despite all the books and peer reviewed journals and even the frankly ridiculous amount of conspiracy websites, little was known about Neighbor culture and society, given how notoriously protective of their privacy they were. Every year the embassies received countless requests from universities for various anthropologists to conduct field research, and every year the requests were politely but firmly denied.

Not that Rex blamed them. There was nothing more infuriating than your culture being studied and dissected by colonizers, even would be ones.

But what that meant that there were few who were trusted enough to be allowed even the smallest of insight into who the Neighbors were. Rex’s mother was one, and now so was he.

* * *

“I am a duke in both title and deed,” Obi-Wan said. “I know your feelings about the aristocracy—”

Rex snorted.

“—your very understandable feelings, but the distinction is important.”

Areta had refreshed his coffee, and Rex added another spoonful of sugar to it. “And why is it important?”

“My family, including Anakin, can open thresholds. We don’t have to rely on embassies to cross over, but that carries its own responsibilities.” Obi-Wan studiously straightened the cutlery into neat lines. “Do you know why we have embassies?”

“It’s where our worlds touch,” Rex answered. “Always figured it was like immigration, regulating who could come in, that sort of thing.”

“That’s not quite accurate.” Obi-Wan glanced around before leaning in, lowering his voice further. “What I’m about to tell you is—it’s not quite a state secret, but near enough.”

Rex swallowed and said, as sacred a vow he had given, “I’ll keep it safe.”

“I know you will.” That sincerity again. “Your world anchors ours. Without it we would—well, it would be disastrous for us.”

“I always thought it was the other way around,” Rex said.

“Yes, that is the implication the council has encouraged. We’re not exactly paragons of virtue.”

“People usually aren’t.” Rex nudged him again. “What does this have to do with your brother?”

“Yes. That.” Obi-Wan sighed. “There are rules about thresholds. They’re delicate things. Dangerous, if you’re not careful. You can’t open one threshold in another without risking a collapse. As my family is one of the few who can, it is our duty to guard against such abuses.”

Obi-Wan’s gaze went distant, and Rex was a patient man when it mattered. He could wait, for Obi-Wan.

“You have to understand that it’s a rare talent,” Obi-Wan finally said. “Which is why it was so surprising to find Anakin opening them as a child.”

* * *

Obi-Wan’s father, the previous duke, was considered an eccentric. Rex privately thought it must be nice to have enough money and social clout to be called that rather than any of the things he heard growing up.

Qui-Gon never married or had any children of his own, and so when Obi-Wan’s parents died, Qui-Gon adopted and named Obi-Wan as his heir and taught him the family talent. Obi-Wan took to it, not without some difficulty, but in the end he mastered it.

And then one day they found a perfectly ordinary child opening and closing thresholds as if he had been made for it, and Qui-Gon spoke with the boy’s mother, and soon Obi-Wan had a brother. Rex could read the pain and the love in the careful spaces Obi-Wan left.

When Qui-Gon died, Anakin was still young, and so Obi-Wan became duke and guardian at once, and when the day came when thresholds were opened within each other, on and on like a spreading fractal, Obi-Wan said goodbye to his brother and accepted his sentence.

* * *

“Huh,” Rex said when Obi-Wan finished.

Obi-Wan waited, but when Rex didn’t elaborate, he said, “I honestly can’t tell whether that reaction bodes ill or not.”

Shit, Obi-Wan must have been worried if he actually used _boded._ Lucky for him that Ahsoka wasn’t around to mock him for putting on airs.

“It’s a lot to take in,” Rex said. “Puts things in a new light.”

Obi-Wan relaxed. “Ah, yes, your amateur anthropological interest. This must be very exciting for you.”

“Don’t make it weird.” He delivered a kick to Obi-Wan’s ankle rather than another nudge. “You make it sound like we’re not friends.”

If he hadn’t been watching, he’d miss the startled pleasure that flashed over Obi-Wan’s face. “My apologies for ‘making it weird.’”

Rex bit back a smile; he loved when Obi-Wan got petty. Areta came to refill his coffee, and when she was gone, he said, “What did Luminara say about your brother?”

Obi-Wan looked out the window to where the rain was tapering off as the storm moved on. “He’s petitioning the council to have my sentence commuted.”

The food sat heavy in his stomach. “That’s good. It means you can go home.”

“If they agree,” Obi-Wan said, avoiding his gaze. “It’s not likely. An example had to be made.”

Rex swallowed the reflexive remarks he had about the justice system, and said, “Well, you always have a place here with me. And Ahsoka. If you want.”

“I know.” Obi-Wan smiled. “Thank you, Rex.”

He shrugged and dug some money out. “Looks like the rain stopped. We should go and stop bothering Areta.”

Obi-Wan looked to where Areta was studiously ignoring them, and said, “It’s not too far to walk. I want to stretch my legs.”

“Sure,” Rex agreed, because he was learning he was very bad at denying Obi-Wan what he wanted. “I don’t mind.”

The storm clouds rolled on and left behind the clean blue of an autumn sky.

* * *

It changed after that, so slow and gradual that Rex couldn’t say when it happened, only that Obi-Wan had settled fully and completely into life in the house, as if he had finally found his place. All of three of them fell into a routine: they took meals together whenever their schedules lined up, and most evenings found Rex and Obi-Wan on opposite of the old couch with their respective books while Ahsoka sat between them, attention split between whatever was on the television and her latest text conversation with Steela. Occasionally she’d tilt the mobile in Obi-Wan’s direction, and he would frown thoughtfully before offering a suggestion. It’d been weeks since he last left open a threshold.

It was all incredibly domestic, and Rex from ten years ago would have hated it, chaffing against the constraints and plotting ways to escape. But that Rex hadn’t buried his brother or sent his men into free fire zones. That Rex had yet to learn the simple pleasure of returning home.

And if he noticed the way he and Obi-Wan were drifting closer by degrees, well, he was content to see where they would end up.

But he wasn’t so gone that he hadn’t been keeping track of the days, and on the anniversary he called his mother and brother and even texted his father before heading to the base for a day filled with meetings. Or he would have if Ahsoka hadn’t stood in the middle of his office looking disappointed with him.

“Go home,” she said, arms crossed and feet planted.

“Did you get into my calendar?” he asked, trying to edge around her to get to the computer.

“It’s a shared calendar, and I can handle everything today. It’s part of my job if you’d ever let me do it. Go home, Rex.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted. “It’s been years. I don’t need your coddling.”

“You are terrible at letting people look after you,” she said, hugging him before he had time to react. “It’s not coddling. It’s me trying to be fucking nice because this is a shit day and I want to do what I can make it a little better.”

His throat tightened and he blinked hard. Ahsoka had held him together through Keeli’s long, slow decline and then in the months following his death. He probably wouldn’t have made it if not for her.

“I love you,” he said, holding her back. She knew, of course, but he needed to say it so there was no doubt.

“Go home,” she said, gently pulling back.

He gave in. “I’m coming in tomorrow.”

“You better. You think I’m going to be this nice forever?”

“No,” he said fondly, and she punched him in the shoulder before pushing him out the door.

The house was empty when he returned, Obi-Wan having gone to do whatever it was he did during the day when normal people actually had to work to afford things like rent and food and internet.

He changed out of his uniform and tried to read a book only to give up in order to see what he could prep for dinner, but nothing looked appealing despite the fact that they just went shopping the day before.

He went for a run instead, looping twice through the neighborhood before returning home, and although his legs ached from the extra distance, he still felt restless and unmoored. A long shower didn’t help, and by the time he made it back downstairs he just about had enough of himself.

“Rex?” Obi-Wan said, pausing as he unwound his scarf. “What are you doing here?”

“Ahsoka sent me home,” Rex said, grateful Obi-Wan was there. “Can we go somewhere?”

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows rose. “Is everything all right?”

“I need to not be here.” He felt desperate and penned in. “Please.”

“Yes, of course.” Obi-Wan finished pulling off his scarf. “Where do you want to go?”

“Doesn’t matter. Just not the ocean.”

Worried, Obi-Wan felt gently along the air in front of him as if looking for a seam. “I think this will do,” he said, and then quicker than Rex could follow he pulled and twisted and the threshold shook open. “Is this all right?”

Heat poured in, and Rex said, “It’ll do.”

Obi-Wan hesitated a moment before offering his hand, and Rex took it, fingers threaded together as they stepped through.

They stood on a hill overlooking a river that lazily snaked in long arcs and curves, the water turned brown from the churn of the current. It was hot and humid, and immediately Obi-Wan shrugged out of the jacket he hadn’t got around to taking off before Rex waylaid him.

“I know you said no oceans,” Obi-Wan said, “but I hope this is all right.”

“Yeah,” Rex said, trying to breathe through the humidity. “It’s great, thank you.”

Obi-Wan waved that away before moving away from the open threshold, picking out a bit of grass and sitting, legs folded neatly and primly under him. His eyebrows rose in expectation until Rex joined him, pulling his jumper off as he went. It was really too warm for anything but shirt sleeves, and if they planned on staying longer than an hour even that might have to go.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Obi-Wan asked quietly.

Below them a riverboat slowly rounded one of the half dozen bends in the river. The thresholds Obi-Wan usually opened led to beautiful but lonely places devoid of people. Maybe this one was closer to home.

“It’s the anniversary of my brother’s death,” Rex said, and waited for the inevitable condolences.

“So that’s why Ahsoka was being nice to you,” Obi-Wan said. He was always surprising Rex.

“Yeah.” Sweat began to bead on his upper lip. “I’d rather stay busy.”

“You need something to occupy your mind so you don’t lose control of your thoughts.”

He nodded, and said, “Boba doesn’t have a lot of memories of Keeli. He was young when he died. I think he feels guilty for that, and I don’t know how to make it better for him.”

“How young was he?”

The riverboat rounded the bend and head towards the next.

“Eight. We tried to keep the worst of it from him, but he knew.”

“May I ask what happened?”Obi-Wan asked. “Although you are under no obligation to explain and are in fact free to tell me to, ah, fuck off if the question is unwelcome.”

Rex managed a small laugh at that. “No, I don’t mind,” he said before Obi-Wan could be offended. “Brain tumor. It was benign, but it still—he made it a year.”

“My father,” Obi-Wan said, “he fell ill, too. He lingered for months, but it was fast at the end.”

Of course Obi-Wan offered no condolences or platitudes; he understood the grief and the guilt, smoothed and shaped by the years to something less painful but still present.

Obi-Wan took his hand, and Rex swallowed and said, “Can we stay here for awhile?”

“The threshold is steady,” Obi-Wan said. “We can stay as long as you want.”

“Just an hour, maybe.”

In the end they stayed through the afternoon, staring down at the river and the sluggish progress of the riverboats, sweat dampening their temples and necks and, when Obi-Wan undid the top buttons of his shirt, the hollow of his throat.

They talked, they must have, but all Rex remembered was the feel of Obi-Wan’s hand wrapped in his and the sense of being known.

When they finally returned through the threshold, sweating and heat-drunk, Ahsoka was waiting for them in the kitchen. “I made dinner,” she said, gaze shifting between them. “Where did you go? You look terrible.”

“It was very humid,” Rex said, which wasn’t an answer.

“Perhaps not my best choice,” said Obi-Wan.

“I liked it,” he said softly, too soft judging by the way Ahsoka’s eyebrows jumped upwards. Damn.

“Oh. Good. I’m going to make myself presentable for the meal.” And with that Obi-Wan turned and fled, stumbling over Ahsoka’s trainers.

“Sorry!” Ahsoka called after him, but Obi-Wan was already up the stairs.

“Do not start,” Rex said when she turned to him.

“What happened to him leaving one day?” she said, following him to the table where she had set out plates and silverware and even napkins. It nearly made him nostalgic for the days when they owned one fork between them.

“It’s not like that,” he said, which wasn’t exactly a lie. “He helped today. That’s all.”

“Okay,” she said, looking unconvinced even as she hugged him again, squeezing tight before letting go. “Okay,” she said again, softer. “Come have dinner with me.”

They had begun to eat when Obi-Wan came back down, and at his frown, Ahsoka said, “I thought kings and shit cared about punctuality.”

“I’m a duke,” Obi-Wan said on a sigh. “You know this.”

“I made you a plate, your grace,” Rex said, and Obi-Wan smiled in thanks as he took his customary seat at the table.

He missed Keeli—would always miss Keeli—but it’d been long enough for the grief to sit easier in his chest, and that was more than he ever hoped for.

* * *

Obi-Wan may have taken his time in settling in, but apparently he was now comfortable enough to make Rex the focus of his considerable charm, and Rex hadn’t decided how to feel about that yet.

Obi-Wan had taken to waking early enough to make and prepare coffee the exact way Rex liked, sometimes even adding his favorite syrup flavors, which meant he’d been talking to Ed, the traitor. Obi-Wan had also begun sending him and Ahsoka off with packed lunches like they were back in grade school, and Ahsoka, despite her initial grumblings, had grown to like it. As the days grew colder, Obi-Wan left blankets, woven from material so soft and warm Rex figured some kind of magic had to be involved, in strategic spots around the house.

If all that hadn’t been bad enough, Obi-Wan loaned him books he thought Rex would enjoy with notes in his neat hand written in the margins, small insights and snide remarks that left Rex oscillating between laughter and a terrible sort of tenderness he wasn’t equipped to examine too closely.

But Rex knew he was well and truly done for the day when Obi-Wan, laundry basket balanced on his hip, said, “Just bring your clothes down when you have a chance. I’m doing a load, and I know how much you hate dealing with it.”

“So,” Ahsoka said once Obi-Wan, humming tonelessly to himself as he sorted the whites from the colors, left the room, “why aren’t you fucking him yet?”

“Because,” Rex said, which was no answer at all.

It was a strange stalemate they found themselves in: Obi-Wan making his interest clear and waiting for Rex to respond, and Rex unable to close that last bit of distance between them.

It might had continued that way if Rex hadn’t returned home that evening to Ahsoka, shirt unbuttoned and braids in disarray, saying, “What took you so long? Go get changed. We’re going out.”

“Please button your shirt,” Rex said, more for Obi-Wan’s sake than his own; he and Ahsoka had seen each other clothed and naked and all the stages in between enough times that there was nothing shocking left, not even the time Ahsoka got drunk and came back with that piercing.

“Yes, please do,” Obi-Wan said from the couch where he was studiously staring at his book.

“You’re both prudes,” Ahsoka said, buttoning up. “Rex, wear the blue shirt. Your arms look nice in it.”

“What’s the occasion?” he asked.

“We’re celebrating.” She began to gather her braids up and Rex automatically reached out to help. “Obi-Wan got a job. He’s like a real boy now.”

“You did?” Rex asked.

Obi-Wan glanced up when it was safe to do so. “It’s nothing exciting. It’s part time work at the university library as a research assistant. Apparently they don’t get many Neighbor applicants to help organize their collection.”

“Can’t imagine why.” He patiently held the braids in place as Ahsoka fished out a clip to secure them. “Does this mean you’ll be able to pay rent in real money now?”

“From my bank account and everything,” Obi-Wan said.

“Huh, you are a real boy.”

“I like to think so.” There was a sharpness to his smile that made Rex swallow.

“I do not deserve this,” Ahsoka muttered before elbowing Rex in the side. “Go get changed. We’re meeting Steela in thirty.”

“Steela’s coming?” he asked.

“She suggested the place.” Ahsoka didn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t want to be late.”

“God forbid,” he said, and dodged a second elbow on his way up to his room.

It didn’t take him long to change and freshen up, and by the time he made it back downstairs, Ahsoka and Obi-Wan were waiting at the door.

“I called a car for us,” Ahsoka said, tapping her fingers against her hip. “You know, now that we’re going to finish our careers out here, you should grow your hair out again.”

“You had long hair?” Obi-Wan asked, gaze flickering down to his shoulders and then back up.

“Flowing golden locks,” Ahsoka said.

“Ignore her,” said Rex. “It was a normal length.”

“It covered his ears,” Ahsoka said in a conspiratorial whisper that had Obi-Wan turning a contemplative look on him.

Rex rolled his eyes. “Aren’t we about to be late?”

That was enough to distract Ahsoka, and she threw their coats at them in an attempt to hurry them along. Rex fished out a spare scarf and draped it around Obi-Wan’s neck, although he drew the line at tucking the ends into his still open coat.

“Oh, thank you.” Obi-Wan ducked his head better to do up the buttons. “Ahsoka was right about your blue shirt. You look quite fetching in it.”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” he said, grateful Ahsoka hadn’t heard.

The car arrived and as they were all piling into it, he leaned close to Ahsoka and said quietly, “Please tell me we’re not going to a club.” Obi-Wan would hate it, and Rex had reached the age where he preferred to be home and in bed than out with a bunch of kids.

“Have a little faith in me,” she murmured back. “Don’t worry. He’ll like it.”

Ahsoka was right; he didn’t have to worry. The car dropped them at a small pub filled with overstuffed armchairs and a mismatch of tables and stools. There were pool tables in the back and half a dozen dartboards in a row, and every wall was lined with bookshelves full to bursting.

“There you are!” Steela said, waving one arm, and Ahsoka abandoned them immediately in her haste to hurry over, forcing Rex and Obi-Wan to follow in her wake. “I hear congratulations are in order,” she said to Obi-Wan.

“Apparently,” Obi-Wan said wryly, “this means I’m a real boy now.”

“Maybe not quite yet,” Steela said with a smile as she glanced between him and Obi-Wan. “I ordered for us.”

“Next round is on me,” Ahsoka said.

“Deal,” Steela said with another smile that drove Ahsoka to silence. “Now, Obi-Wan, tell me about this new job.”

Rex liked Steela, who was smart and quick and didn’t take any of Ahsoka’s shit and, it turned out, could drink with the best of them, which in this case meant she could keep up with Obi-Wan. Rex conceded defeat and switched to water on the assumption that one of them should be sober enough to remember how to work the locks when they made it back home.

“Hey,” Steela said to Ahsoka, “come play a game with me.”

“Sure,” Ahsoka said. “You all right?”

“We’ll be fine,” Obi-Wan said, idly paging through a book pulled at random from the shelf. “Go have fun.”

“Oh, thank you, your highness,” Ahsoka said with a mock bow, wobbling drunkenly until Steela steadied her.

“You know it’s ‘your grace,’” Obi-Wan called after her.

“And you know she is never going to call you that,” Rex said.

“I hold out hope,” Obi-Wan said.

“You don’t even like your title.” He took advantage of Obi-Wan’s surprise to finish the last of Obi-Wan’s beer.

“It’s not a matter of liking or disliking it,” Obi-Wan said. “It simply is.”

“Sure,” Rex agreed, and pushed his glass of water towards Obi-Wan in the hope he’d take the hint. “But you still don’t like it.”

Obi-Wan turned contemplative even as he absently took a drink of water. “Would you believe I never thought about it in such terms?”

Rex could believe it. Obi-Wan’s world had, as far as he could tell, consisted of his brother and his duty and the simple joy he took from opening thresholds. And given his family’s status, Obi-Wan never had to think beyond that.

“Maybe you should think about it in such terms,” Rex said.

Ahsoka and Steela had taken up position at one of the dartboards, and Steela was laughing as Ahsoka, who got overly precise when she was drunk, took aim and promptly missed her mark by an embarrassing margin.

“And they gave you a rifle?” Steela said.

“I’m a good shot,” Ahsoka insisted. “Rex, tell her about my marksmanship scores!”

“Could be better,” Rex said, and the only reason he didn’t get a dart to the face was because one of the staff gave Ahsoka such a stern look she ducked her head and muttered an apology, much to Steela’s delight.

“You’re adorable,” Steela said, ensuring that Ahsoka’s next shot also went wide.

Obi-Wan carelessly balanced an elbow on the table, chin braced on his hand. He tended to go liquid the more he drank, and Rex pointedly nudged the water closer. “If I were to think of it such terms,” Obi-Wan said, “I’d say that perhaps I don’t care for it, no.”

“A lot of words for you to agree with me,” Rex said.

“Do you know what I do like?”

Now it was Ahsoka’s turn to laugh as Steela nearly missed the dartboard entirely. Rex, who knew Ahsoka’s moves, expected her to start correcting Steela’s stance any second now.

“No,” Rex said. “What do you like?”

Obi-Wan smiled, a sharp curve of his mouth. “I like it here. I didn’t think I would, when they sent me away. But I do.”

“Oh.” He blinked. “That’s, uh, that’s good.”

Obi-Wan placed a deliberate hand on his knee. “Yes, it is.”

“Huh,” he said, aware of the careful way Obi-Wan was holding himself. Not that drunk, apparently. “I’m glad you, uh, moved in. Don’t think I ever said.”

“You didn’t.” Obi-Wan brushed his thumb in slow arcs along the edge of Rex’s kneecap. “But I’m glad, too.”

They passed the rest of the evening like that, Obi-Wan’s hand on his knee as they watched Ahsoka put her terrible moves on a smiling Steela, who actually seemed to find it charming. When they finally left, Rex was, if not sober, than less drunk than everyone else, and made sure there was a second car to take Steela home.

“Hey,” Steela said as they waited, “don’t tell Ahsoka, but I’m really good at darts.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” Rex said, and then went to pour Ahsoka and Obi-Wan into the other car.

Obi-Wan’s hand went back to his knee on the ride back, and by the time all of them stumbled into the house and navigated the stairs, Rex felt like he was fourteen all over again and trying to figure out if a date was going to end with a kiss.

It was decided for him when Obi-Wan lightly touched his wrist and said, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“I’ll bring the painkillers,” he said, and Obi-Wan smiled as he shut his bedroom door.

“Rex,” Ahsoka said from where she was leaning heavily against him, “I think I have Obi-Wan feelings for Steela. Steela feelings.”

“I noticed,” he said dryly, steering them to her bedroom.

Ahsoka made a disgruntled noise. “We didn’t use to get feelings. What happened to us?”

“I wish I knew.” He gently tipped her onto the bed.

Ahsoka sprawled out, trying to kick her shoes off. “We got old.”

“Yeah, we did.” He helped her with her shoes, and then, realizing his own bed was far away, fell down next to her. It wouldn’t be the first time they bunked together. “It’s not that bad.”

She rolled over and slung an arm over his stomach. “No, it’s not.”

And old or not, they fell asleep together like they were still twenty years old and waiting for their lives to arrive.

* * *

Rex waited until the afternoon, when his hangover was a pale shadow of itself, to call his mother. She answered with a brisk, “Tell your brother if he’s going to sneak his mates in at night then he needs to learn to be quieter. I can’t keep pretending I’ve suddenly gone deaf.”

“I thought we weren’t encouraging this.” He went out onto the back steps in the hope the fresh air would clear his head, but he neglected to put on his socks and his toes were already growing cold.

“We’re not encouraging him sneaking out, but sneaking his friends in is fine. A bit of controlled rebellion is good for him. It was for you.”

He considered that. “How much did you know?”

“I knew everything for ages sixteen and seventeen.”

He winced. Controlled rebellion, indeed.

“You had nothing on Keeli,” she added. “Remember his early twenties?”

“Like I could forget,” he said. Keeli had a knack for finding trouble and doing what he could to put a stop to it, an admirable quality that unfortunately meant he took a lot of hits to the face.

“You know he got that from you.”

He swallowed. “I know.”

“I doubt you called me to reminiscence. What’s going on, kid?”

“I’m going to ask a question,” he said, “and I need you to reserve your judgment.”

“All right,” his mother said after a long moment. “Ask away.”

Rex took a deep breath. “Did you love her? The Neighbor you, uh, traveled with, I mean.”

His mother blew out a breath. “Rex, sweetheart, your father and I—”

“Oh god, no,” he said quickly. He worked hard to get his relationship with Jango to something resembling normal, and the last thing he wanted was to go digging into his parents’ past. “This has nothing do with him. Promise.”

“Ah,” his mother said in a tone of voice that Rex vividly remembered from ages sixteen and seventeen. “Reserving my judgment, huh?”

“For now.”

She sighed. “Of course I loved her.”

He curled his toes, trying to force some warmth into them. “Do you regret it?”

“Some days,” she said, gentle. “I miss her, but I don’t regret the time we spent together or the time we’ve spent apart.” She was quiet for a moment. “May I ask a question?”

“Might as well.”

“Do you think you’ll regret it?”

Behind him, he could hear Obi-Wan moving about the kitchen, muttering quietly to himself as he went. “I don’t know,” he said.

“Well, you let me know if you figure it out. And next time you have some leave, bring him back with you. It’s time I met him. I’ll even get Boba to behave.”

He snorted. “That’s never going to happen.”

“Don’t say never,” his mother said. “Look at what I did with you and Keeli. I’m a damn miracle worker.”

“Goodbye,” he said firmly, and hung up on her laughter.

Three years and a day his mother had spent with the Neighbor, had loved her for all that time, and then they had parted ways. Regret, like love, tended to linger.

“There you are,” Obi-Wan said, carefully opening the door so it wouldn’t bump Rex. “I brought you something.” He passed over a cup of coffee and a pair of thick socks.

“Really?” Rex said, accepting both.

“You don’t like to wear them,” Obi-Wan answered, taking a seat on the top step, two above Rex. “Which is all well and good for summer, but you’ll catch a cold now.”

“Hold my coffee,” Rex said, and wrestled on the socks. They didn’t look familiar; they must belong to Obi-Wan. He took his cup back. “Thanks.”

“Was that your mother?” Obi-Wan asked.

Obi-Wan’s ankle was level with him, and so Rex wrapped his hand around it. This was something they did now, a hand on a knee or shoulder or elbow whenever they were close enough to touch. They were drifting together, slow enough that either of them could have put a stop to it if they wanted. They didn’t.

“Yes.” He rubbed his thumb over Obi-Wan’s anklebone. “She wants us to visit next time I get some leave.”

“I’d liked to see where you grew up,” Obi-Wan said.

“I’ll show you around,” Rex said, and just like that it was decided.

* * *

Ahsoka, half-dressed with her braids piled on top of her head, burst into his room without knocking. Rex didn’t look up from his book.

“I could have been naked,” he said.

“I’ve already seen it,” she said dismissively. “It’s not that impressive.”

He turned the page. “Did you need something?”

“Yes, actually.” She shook the shirt cuffs over her wrist. “Can you do these up for me? And then you need to fuck Obi-Wan.”

He sighed and reached for the first cuff, precisely rolling it up to her elbows; Ahsoka could never get the folds correct. “Can you maybe stay out of my business for five minutes?”

“Well, Rex,” she said cheerfully as she offered her other arm, “I would love to, but you two have been circling each other for so long it’s driving me crazy. And don’t give me that shit about him leaving one day. Everyone could leave one day. You’re just using it as an excuse. Either get over it and stop leading him on or man up and fuck him. It’s miserable dealing with you both. I live here, too.”

He made finished up the other sleeve, taking care to make sure the creases were sharp. “I didn’t know it was that bad for you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not bad, just uncomfortable.” Ahsoka gripped him by the back of the neck. “And, you know, I want you to be happy.”

He leaned up and pressed their foreheads together. “I love you, too.”

She made a face as she pulled back. “Yeah, we’re done here.”

Rex picked up his book. “Go put on some real pants.”

“Oh,” she said, pausing at the door, “blue waistcoat or the red one?”

“Date with Steela?” At her nod, he said, “Red. That’s your color.”

“It is, isn’t it?” she said, pleased, and went to finish getting dressed.

It was another forty minutes before Ahsoka was ready, and on her way out the door she called back, “Don’t wait up!”

“She has a date with Steela,” Rex explained when Obi-Wan, who was washing dishes, raised his eyebrows.

“That seems to be going well.” Obi-Wan wiped his hands on the dish towel thrown over his shoulder. “I was beginning to think she was never going to make a move.”

“If this was ten years ago she would have already slept with her.” Of course, if it had been ten years ago Rex would also have taken Obi-Wan to bed and then snuck out in the morning. Neither he nor Ahsoka had been good with what came after, but they’d learned. “She wants to do it right.”

“That’s very admirable.” Obi-Wan went back to tidying up, everything put back in its place. When he first moved in, he had continuously forgotten where everything went, as if he wasn’t used to having to pick up after himself.

“Do you want to get out of here?” Rex asked.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Obi-Wan said. “If you will be so kind as to put away the silverware we can go.”

By the time Rex stowed the last fork in the correct slot, Obi-Wan had opened a threshold. Obi-Wan held out a hand and Rex took it as they stepped through onto hard packed sand. He could smell the ocean.

“This way,” Obi-Wan said and started picking a careful path down a slope. It was very dark even with the moon out.

“Where are we?”

“Patience. You’ll see.” Their hands swung between them as they walked. “I told you that it was thresholds being opened in each other that led to my banishment.”

“You did.”

“It was my brother who did it. Careful, there’s a dip here.” Obi-Wan helped him over it. “He met someone and fell in love. I always thought he loved too much. Her people were threatened, and Anakin wanted to help, but he nearly cut our world off from yours and thus consigned us to death.”

“You took the blame,” Rex said, unsurprised. Anakin wasn’t the only one who loved too much.

“It lay with me.” Obi-Wan brushed a curl of hair from his forehead. “I am the duke and the thresholds are my responsibility. I should have taught him to—well, I should have done many things better than I did. Thankfully one of the council members agreed to oversee Anakin’s probation and to teach him in my absence. He will be a better man for it.”

“He’ll be a better man because of you,” Rex said.

Obi-Wan’s smile was fleeting. “I’d like to think so, but I can admit I overlooked his temperament because I love him. A fault that runs through my family.”

Rex let that lie as they continued on. They were close to the ocean now; he could hear the steady wash of the waves.

“Not that I don’t appreciate you sharing,” he finally said, “but why now?”

“Ah. Well, you see, I understand him now.” Before Rex could puzzle that out, Obi-Wan added, “And here we are.”

They stepped out onto the beach proper. The sand was black underfoot and the waves were low and calm. Rex glanced down the shore, frowning. There was an outcropping of rock that looked familiar. He could just make out a cove, like the one he and Keeli used to play in.

“God,” he said, “you brought me home.”

“In a manner of speaking, yes. It’s not quite what you’re thinking, as I had to do some complicated temporal adjustments in order to—but that’s not important. I know you miss it.”

Rex looked in the direction his mother’s house stood. She and Boba would still be up, watching television or maybe arguing over Boba’s grades depending on how the term was going. “You didn’t have to.”

Obi-Wan shrugged. “I wanted to.”

He turned back to Obi-Wan. Their hands were still linked. “You’ve been doing a lot of oceans lately.”

“You miss living near the sea,” Obi-Wan said. “It’s no hardship making sure you can visit.”

“ _Christ_ ,” Rex said, and kissed him.

Obi-Wan froze, and Rex for one terrible moment thought he got it wrong, and then Obi-Wan rocked forward, enthusiastic but clumsy. They were knocked off balance and their teeth clacked together before Rex could steady them.

“Sorry,” Obi-Wan said. “I’ve never had the opportunity before in this form.”

“It’s okay,” Rex said over the white noise that swelled in his head at the admission. “We can try again.”

“Excellent,” Obi-Wan said, and immediately kissed him again.

Rex threaded his free hand through Obi-Wan’s hair, and kept the kiss light and easy for as long as Obi-Wan let him. But Obi-Wan was a fast learner and soon he was pressing closer and licking into Rex’s mouth, and Rex felt breathless from it, like he’d spin apart if Obi-Wan stopped touching him.

“We should—hold on—we should head back,” Rex said.

Obi-Wan chased his mouth so intently that Rex had no choice but to be flattered. “Why?” he asked as he pressed a sucking kiss to the underside of Rex’s jaw.

Rex swallowed. “Because I want you naked, and if we do it here we’ll get sand in uncomfortable places.”

“Yes, all right,” Obi-Wan agreed, and they separated enough to hurry back through the threshold.

Rex blinked at the sudden light. “Hurry up and close it.”

“I’m trying,” Obi-Wan said, aggrieved, hands shaking as he moved to lace it closed. “I’m having trouble concentrating.”

“Are you?” Rex asked, dragging his mouth along the nape of Obi-Wan’s neck and sliding a hand under his shirt.

Obi-Wan snarled and snapped the threshold shut. Rex laughed as Obi-Wan dragged him towards the couch and pushed him down. He barely managed to right himself before Obi-Wan clambered onto his lap, urging his head back so Obi-Wan could get to his neck. Rex was happy to let Obi-Wan do whatever he wanted as long as he got to touch Obi-Wan in return.

“Here,” Rex said, hands going to the buttons on Obi-Wan’s shirt. “Let me.”

“Please,” Obi-Wan said, and Rex popped the buttons off in his haste.

“Sorry,” he said.

Obi-Wan just laughed and kissed him again, so eager and joyful that Rex felt like he was seventeen again and praying his mother didn’t come home early and catch them. It was ridiculous. He loved it.

“Let me know if you don’t like this,” he said, and then, hand spread low on Obi-Wan’s back to help him balance, swiped his tongue over Obi-Wan’s nipple.

“ _Oh_ ,” Obi-Wan said, surprised. “Do that again.”

Rex did, adding a light bite to it, and Obi-Wan clutched at the back of his neck and said, “Sex in this form does have its benefits. I had wondered.”

If Obi-Wan was still capable of that many words than he wasn’t doing it right, and so Rex undid the button and zipper on Obi-Wan’s trousers and pulled out his cock.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Obi-Wan hissed, mouth dropping open. His hips bucked into each stroke. “Don’t stop.”

“I won’t.” He licked sweat from the hollow of Obi-Wan’s throat.

This really was adolescent, the two of them fumbling on the couch, each stroke causing Obi-Wan to bite out another sound like he never felt anything as good as Rex’s dry hand on him. If Ahsoka came home and found them like this he’d never hear the end of it, but he didn’t care, not when Obi-Wan gasped out his name, eyes wide and dark as he came all over them both.

Obi-Wan folded over him, and Rex mouthed leisurely at Obi-Wan’s throat, running his hand along Obi-Wan’s side as he calmed.

“I take it you liked that,” Rex said once Obi-Wan’s breathing had evened out.

“Like I said, this form has its benefits.” Obi-Wan reached for the zipper on his trousers. “May I?”

“Yes,” Rex said, “but let’s try it on a bed this time.”

That was all the convincing Obi-Wan needed to get back to his feet and pull Rex up, and they stumbled to Rex’s room where they finished shedding their clothes and Obi-Wan proved what a quick study he really was.

Afterwards, content and half-asleep, Rex dragged his hand down the length of Obi-Wan’s spine and said, “What do you look like?”

“This,” Obi-Wan said, eyes sliding shut. “I look like this.”

“Not what I meant.”

“No, but it is what I meant,” Obi-Wan said, and pressed his face into the curve of Rex’s neck.

* * *

Winter settled in by degrees, and he and Obi-Wan followed the rhythm it set. They didn’t spend every night in the same bed, although they ended up together more often than not. If this relationship followed Rex’s past conventional ones, they would go on several dates before spending the night, and then spend the better part of a year slowly feeling each other out before moving in together.

“But we do live together,” Obi-Wan pointed out when Rex had laid it out.

“I’m aware,” he said dryly. “I like having you as a housemate. I don’t want to ruin it just because we’re—”

“Dating?” Obi-Wan seemed amused. “Very sensible.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“Of course not. I’m impressed by how responsible you’re being.” And because Obi-Wan was a shit, he patted Rex’s hand.

“Oh, fuck you,” Rex said.

“Now there’s an idea. Do you want to have sex?”

Obi-Wan didn’t need the encouragement, but then this was the first time they were able to see each other all day. “Yes,” he said, and dragged Obi-Wan to whichever bedroom was closest. It turned out to be his, and Obi-Wan spent the night.

The next morning he was greeted by a glowering Ahsoka, who pointedly poured the last cup of coffee and didn’t put on a new batch to brew.

“You know this your own fault,” Rex said, digging out the beans. “You were the one who told me to fuck him.”

“I didn’t mean every night,” she said sourly. “Some of us need sleep.”

“Do you? Because I don’t think you and Steela are doing much of that on your sleepovers.”

She sighed and offered the dregs of the coffee. “Truce?”

“Truce,” he said, and finished off the cup because he was desperate.

Of course that meant most mornings found him and Ahsoka stumbling into the kitchen to find Steela and Obi-Wan sitting at the table, a teapot set between them as they passed sections of the newspaper back and forth.

“We made breakfast,” Steela said.

“And there’s coffee,” Obi-Wan added, and Rex dropped a grateful kiss to his mouth on his way past.

And then in the depth of the winter Obi-Wan came down with a nasty chest cold, and after the second night of him being unable to sleep from the coughs wracking through him, Rex said, “Right, you’re going to the doctor.”

Obi-Wan was too exhausted to put up a fight, and so Rex got him an appointment and bundled him in three layers and off they went. If the doctor noticed the binding sigils on Obi-Wan’s palms, she was discreet enough not to mention. She wrote a prescription for medicine to help with the cough and sent him home to rest.

Back home, Rex deposited Obi-Wan in the nest of blankets on the couch and turned on the television to some truly terrible daytime programming.

“Take these,” he said, shaking out two capsules and passing over a cup of tea. He watched to make sure Obi-Wan swallowed. It was force of habit left over from Keeli, who even at the end hated taking pills of any sort. “I’m going to make you some soup.”

“You don’t have to,” Obi-Wan said.

“This is what you do when someone’s sick.” He brushed the hair from Obi-Wan’s forehead, a terrible, frightening tenderness welling up in him. “Haven’t you caught a cold before?”

“Not like this. Everything feels so much more in this form.”

That goddamn sincerity again. Rex swallowed and said, “You’ll feel better soon.”

He retreated to the kitchen as Obi-Wan dozed off. There was just enough in the pantry for something basic, although he should have known one of them would inevitably fall ill and planned accordingly. While the soup simmered, he pulled out his mobile and texted Ahsoka a list of ingredients to pick up on her way home so that he could make his grandmother’s recipe.

 _His highness still dying?_ she sent back.

He peeked around the corner to where Obi-Wan had fallen asleep with his mouth open. Feeling only slightly guilty, he took a picture and sent it to her.

_LOL guess blue blood really is useless._

_Show some respect,_ he replied. _That’s royal drool you’re making fun of._

He tucked his mobile away and ladled some soup into a bowl. “Hey,” he said gently, “I brought soup.”

Obi-Wan jerked awake, blinking up at him. “You didn’t have to do this.” Before Rex could open his mouth, he added, “Yes, yes, I know. You do this for the ill.”

“And that’s you. Budge over.”

Obi-Wan struggled upright, and Rex waited until he was settled before passing over the bowl. He raised his arm and Obi-Wan settled against him with a sigh.

“This is good,” Obi-Wan said when he managed half of it.

“I’ll make you something better later.” He took the bowel and set it aside.

“I look forward to it.” Obi-Wan yawned, eyes already drooping again, and Rex urged him to lie down until his head was pillowed on Rex’s lap. “I’ll get you sick.”

“That’s going to happen anyway.” Once a virus entered the house it was only a matter of time until they all succumbed. He wasn’t looking forward to Ahsoka catching it; she tended to nest in odd locations. Last time she had a cold, she camped out on the kitchen floor for hours before Rex physically carried her back to bed. “Then it’ll be your turn to take care of me.”

“I will be very attentive,” Obi-Wan promised.

“I’m sure you will,” Rex said, and ran his fingers through Obi-Wan’s hair until he fell asleep.

* * *

He and Ahsoka both caught the virus, and Obi-Wan became proficient at making soup. Ahsoka holed up in Obi-Wan’s room, claiming it smelled nicer than her own despite the fact she was so congested she couldn’t breathe right for a weak. Rex was determined to sleep through it, and Obi-Wan, when he wasn’t cajoling Rex out for a meal, played the part of pillow with what seemed like genuine contentment.

“No one should be this happy dealing with sick people,” Rex said in one of his rare moments of consciousness. He had relocated to Obi-Wan’s room to keep Ahsoka company, and she was currently sprawled at the foot of the bed, wrapped in three blankets. Only her braids were visible.

“I find it emotionally fulfilling that you trust me to care for you while you covalence,” Obi-Wan said.

His head hurt, which was why it took him so long to translate, and when he did it sent him into a coughing fit. Obi-Wan rubbed his back until Rex was able to catch his breath to say, “I love you, too.”

“I know,” Obi-Wan said, and pressed a cool kiss to his forehead.

Ahsoka made a disgusted noise. “Stop that. It’s gross. You’re being gross.”

“My apologies,” Obi-Wan said dryly. “Steela will be by later. You can have your revenge then.”

“And I will,” she said, which would have been more threatening if she didn’t immediately sneeze three times in a row.

“Go to sleep,” Obi-Wan said. “Both of you.”

Since there was no reason not to, Rex did.

* * *

Winter gave way to spring, and Rex realized that it had been well over a year since Obi-Wan moved it.

“Has it been that long?” Obi-Wan asked. He had brought his laptop to bed with him to continue working on the spreadsheet he was using to organize the library’s back catalogue, which hadn’t been updated in years.

“We should do something.” Rex marked his place in his book and set it aside, nudging Obi-Wan until he closed his laptop.

“Do you mean go out?”

Rex had to hand it to Obi-Wan, he hid his distaste very well. He’d been made full time when some extra funding had come in, and they all gone out to a pub—him and Obi-Wan, Ahsoka and Steela, and even Jocasta Nu, Obi-Wan’s supervisor, had joined them—and gotten horrifically drunk a month ago. But Obi-Wan had more than a few hermit tendencies and considered that more than enough socializing for the foreseeable future.

“No, we’ll stay in. I’ll make something.” He began compiling a list in his head. “Three courses, even.”

“Only three?” Obi-Wan said because he was a shit. “I’ve been to dinners with ten courses and I wasn’t even sleeping with the host.”

“Fuck off, you haven’t.”

“I _am_ a duke,” Obi-Wan said archly.

Rex rolled his eyes. “Your grace needs to go to sleep because you have the early shift tomorrow.”

He turned out the light and waited until Obi-Wan got comfortable before slinging an arm over his stomach. It had been months since the last time Obi-Wan went to the embassy. There, on the edge of sleep, it seemed incredibly important, but in the morning Rex couldn’t remember why.

* * *

It was another week before all their schedules aligned to make dinner possible, and that afternoon Rex made Obi-Wan accompany him to the shops; Obi-Wan was better at adhering to the list than Rex, who picked up his shopping habits from his mother, which meant he grabbed whatever caught his eye at the moment.

“No,” Obi-Wan said, and replaced the container of caramelized pecans back on the shelf. “You’ll never use them.”

“You don’t know that. Maybe I’ll do some baking.” Obi-Wan arched a dubious eyebrow, and Rex said, “Just for that you get to knead the bread dough.”

“You were going to make me do that anyway,” Obi-Wan said, and Rex smiled. “What?”

“Nothing.” He nudged Obi-Wan’s shoulder with his own. “What’s next on the list?”

It was nice doing something as mundane as food shopping with Obi-Wan. He remembered his parents doing the same, the rare times the two of them were making another go of it, their bickering taking on a friendly edge while Rex and his brothers snuck as many sweets into the cart as they could. Keeli had always been the better at it. Something to do with the wide-eyed look. Jango fell for it every time.

They were weighed down with bags when they returned home, and Obi-Wan, carefully stepping over Ahsoka’s shoes, said, “Come help us carry it in.”

There was no answer even though Rex heard voices from the kitchen. Steela must have arrived early.

“Hey, Tano,” he said, “if you want to eat you have to help.”

There was frantic whispering, and Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows; they’d all agreed the kitchen was off limits to any fooling around.

“Hi,” Ahsoka said, finally making an appearance. The corners of her eyes were tight. “Let me take those.” Bemused, Obi-Wan didn’t put up a fight as she took the bags from him. “There’s someone here to see you.”

The words were meant for Obi-Wan but she glanced to Rex, oddly sad. His stomach clenched.

“Who is it?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Go on,” Ahsoka said gently. “He’s been waiting.”

Obi-Wan hesitated before straightening, chin up and shoulders back, as if he was expecting—well, Rex wasn’t sure. For the first time in months, he couldn’t guess at what Obi-Wan was thinking.

There in the middle of the kitchen, holding the nice mug they reserved for guests, stood a tall and awkward man, hair hanging into his face and shoulders hunched.

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan said.

Obi-Wan’s brother looked up and said, “Uh, hi.”

Obi-Wan made a noise in the back of his throat and didn’t even give Anakin a chance of setting the mug aside before he was embracing him. Despite the height Anakin had on him, Anakin folded into him, hand fisted in the back of Obi-Wan’s jacket.

“I didn’t know if you’d want to see me,” Anakin said.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Obi-Wan said. “I always want to see you. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” said Anakin.

Neither of the two brothers noticed when Rex and Ahsoka set the bags down and left them to their reunion.

* * *

Spring or not, it was still cold, and Ahsoka handed over a beer and tossed a jacket over his shoulders.

“Thanks,” he said. “They still talking?”

“Yeah.” She took a seat next to him on the back steps. “They have a lot to catch up on.”

Rex took a long drink. “He’s going back.”

“You don’t know that,” Ahsoka said, but she lacked conviction. “We don’t even know if his sentence has been lifted, and even if it has we don’t know what Obi-Wan will do.”

“If it was us,” Rex said, “tell me you wouldn’t go back with me.”

“That’s different.”

“No, it isn’t.”

She sighed. “No, it isn’t. We’re gonna need more beer.”

It had grown dark by the time Obi-Wan came to find them, carefully stepping around the empty bottles. “Did you leave anything for me?”

Rex passed over his bottle, watching the movement of Obi-Wan’s throat as he finished it off. Obi-Wan always could drink the rest of them under the table.

“The kid staying the night?” Ahsoka said.

“He has a room at the embassy,” Obi-Wan answered, which wasn’t an answer. Ahsoka hit him in the ankle. “Yes, I think so.”

“Couch or your room?” she asked.

Obi-Wan glanced to him, but Rex didn’t know what the right answer was. “Couch for tonight, I think,” Obi-Wan answered.

Ahsoka gathered up the empty bottles before standing. “I’ll go make it up.” To Rex, she said, “Come find me after.”

He clasped her wrist as she passed, waiting until the door closed behind her before saying, “So is this a sitting conversation or a standing one?”

“I’m not sure what rubric you’re using to determine that,” Obi-Wan said.

Standing it was, then. Rex hauled himself to his feet, leaning against the railing. “How’s the kid?”

“Good,” Obi-Wan said softly. “I had worried he would chaff at the restrictions the council put on him, but he’s been working with Lord Windu. He’s made astonishing progress.”

“That’s good to hear,” Rex said, and it wasn’t a lie. He didn’t want Obi-Wan to suffer.

“He’s going to be a father,” Obi-Wan added. “The woman he helped—Padmé—she’s pregnant.”

“Shit. He’s practically a kid himself.”

“I’m well aware,” Obi-Wan said dryly.

“How freaked out is he?”

“Very.” Obi-Wan smiled. “But he’s also excited.”

Rex nudged Obi-Wan’s ankle. “You’re going to be an uncle.”

“Don’t remind me.” Despite his frown, Rex could tell he was happy.

Christ, Rex was going to miss him so much.

“You’re leaving,” he said.

Obi-Wan at least had the decency not to look guilty. “His petition was successful, especially with Lord Windu’s backing. My sentence has been commuted.” He drew a deep breath. “It’s not that I want to—”

“It’s your brother,” Rex interrupted, gentle. “You think I wouldn’t do the same for Boba or Ahsoka? The kid needs you.”

Obi-Wan’s expression did something very complicated very quickly. “And you?”

“I’ll be fine. You know that.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said, “I know.”

“Come here,” Rex said, and he didn’t even need to reach out for Obi-Wan to go to him, arms tight around his shoulders.

“I don’t want to go,” Obi-Wan said, his cheek pressed to Rex’s.

 _So don’t._ Rex bit the words back. No need to make this harder than it had to be.

“And give up all this?” he said, gesturing back to the kitchen and the empty bottles Ahsoka had abandoned on the counter and the perpetual pile of laundry in the corner.

Obi-Wan’s laugh was more air than sound. “You do know how to keep me in the manner I’ve become accustomed to.”

“Never let it be said I didn’t show you a good time.”

“You did more than that,” Obi-Wan said, and kissed him.

Rex held on as long as Obi-Wan let him.

* * *

The Neighbors, Rex had always known, visited but they did not stay, and in the end what was true for his mother was true for him: Rex lived here and Obi-Wan did not.

* * *

It was another week before Obi-Wan left. He had built a life with them and it took time to pack it all up. There were his things to consider—clothes, books, the odds and ends that accumulated—and Obi-Wan wanted to give his job some notice. Jocasta insisted on writing a reference despite Obi-Wan’s assurances he wouldn’t need it. Dukes, after all, had no need to work.

They moved Anakin into Obi-Wan’s room for the second night. Obi-Wan spent the rest of the week in Rex’s bed, and Rex didn’t kid himself that Anakin didn’t know what they were doing. They’d never been that quiet before and now they clawed and clung, drawing it out just that little bit longer.

The day before Obi-Wan was set to leave, Anakin cornered him in the kitchen, and said, “Can I ask you something?”

Rex, who expected the kid to break two days ago, just passed over a cup of coffee; Anakin did not share his brother’s love of tea. “Sure, go ahead.”

Anakin carefully cradled the cup, a nervous tick he had with anything delicate. According to Obi-Wan, before Anakin had adjusted to the prosthetic, he dropped just about everything he touched. “Was Obi-Wan happy here?”

“Huh,” Rex said, not expecting that.

“It’s just,” Anakin continued, “he’s never been that good with people or fitting in. I didn’t know how he’d make out.”

“I’d like to think he is,” Rex said. “Happy, I mean. He made a good life here.”

Anakin stared at his coffee. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” said Rex, and didn’t bother with an excuse before leaving the room.

On the last night, Obi-Wan opened a threshold onto a beach where the sand was soft and the waves high.

“This my consolation prize?” Rex asked before he could stop himself.

“No,” Obi-Wan said firmly. “This is for me. Please.”

Rex was bad at denying Obi-Wan anything, and so they stayed there all night, watching as they sun came up and they couldn’t delay it any longer.

Everything Obi-Wan had wanted to take with him—his favorite books, the scarf Ahsoka bought him, even his favorite mug—had already been packed and delivered to the embassy. He and Anakin would be returning through there. It was a small mercy Rex wouldn’t have to watch Obi-Wan leave through one of his thresholds.

“Well,” Ahsoka said, “guess this is it.”

“I suppose it is,” Obi-Wan said. “Thank you for posting that housing ad.”

“Thank you for answering it, your grace.”

Obi-Wan smiled. “I knew you would get it correct one day.”

“Shut up,” she said, and hugged him, holding on tight. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too,” he said. “Give my best to Steela.”

She nodded, and ducked her head to hide her suspiciously wet eyes. “We’ll be outside.” She jabbed fingers into Anakin’s side when he didn’t move fast enough. “Come on, Skyguy.”

“Ow, quit it,” Anakin complained as Ahsoka shoved him out the front door.

“Skyguy?” Obi-Wan said.

Rex shrugged. “She makes friends quick.”

“Ah, yes, of course.”

Obi-Wan cleared his throat, and Rex wondered if this was how they would part, as awkward and unsure as when they met.

“I want—” Rex said at the same time as Obi-Wan said, “Do you—”

“Sorry,” he said. “You go.”

“I was only going to say that I liked living with you.”

“Yeah,” Rex said, “me too.”

Obi-Wan stepped close and said, “Can I?”

Rex nodded, and Obi-Wan kissed him. Rex had to be the one to break it, and he touched his forehead to Obi-Wan’s, and said, “You have to go.”

Obi-Wan brushed his thumb under Rex’s ear, and because he was still such a shit, said, “Don’t let an art student move in.”

Rex was still laughing when Ahsoka came inside, shutting the door so Rex wouldn’t have to see Obi-Wan get in the car and leave.

“I really am going to miss him,” she said.

“You’re the only surprised by that,” he said, and leaned into the arm she wrapped around him.

And just like that it was only him and Ahsoka, the same as it had always been.

* * *

For the nights that followed, Ahoska poked and prodded until he went to bed with her, the two of them curled together like they were twenty again and didn’t know how it felt to be left behind.

“You ever gonna let me go back to my own bed?” he asked five nights in.

“Depends,” she answered, running the tips of her fingers along the plates of his skull. “Are you going to stop being a sad bastard?”

“I’m not sad.”

“You’re not arguing the bastard part.”

“I'm not a liar,” he said, and Ahsoka laughed quietly. “It’s my own fault. I knew he was going to leave and I still—I knew better.”

She sighed very quietly, and said, “You can’t live your life like this, you know. Keeli wouldn’t want that.”

“If Keeli wanted a say then he shouldn’t have died.” The grief was easy to swallow, after all this time. “I thought you were going away with Steela this weekend to meet her brother.”

“We rescheduled. She understood. And if she didn’t,” Ahsoka added, “then I need to find that out sooner rather than later. You need me, and as much as I like her, you take priority.”

“She’s your girlfriend,” he protested.

She jabbed him in the side. “How have long we’ve known each other?”

He sighed. “Twenty years.”

“Twenty fucking years. You’ve put in the work. You come first this time. You’d do the same for me.”

Rex couldn’t argue with that, and so he said, “Lucky me.”

“Lucky me, too,” Ahsoka said, and curled up against his back, using her body to cover all his vulnerable spots.

* * *

It was a beautiful spring day when he called his mother from the back garden, the earth soft under his bare feet. Maybe this year they should try planting some flowers so they’d have something to look at other than sad patches of grass.

“Hey, kid,” his mother said, sounding distracted; she never focused on one thing when half a dozen would do. “You going to visit anytime soon?”

“That’s why I called,” he said. “Obi-Wan isn’t coming.”

“Oh,” she said, her attention fully on him. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” He closed his eyes against the sun. “How did you get over it?”

There was the sound of rustling, and he pictured her at her desk surrounded by piled manuscripts with her feet tucked under her in that old monstrosity of a chair. He and Keeli used to play in it when they were young, spinning each other around and around. Once Rex spun the chair so fast that Keeli had gone flying into the edge of the desk, cracking his head open and bleeding everywhere. He needed stitches, and Rex hadn’t left his side for days afterward.

“I had my career to keep my busy, and there was my family. And I had your father, of course.”

He snorted. “You don’t even like him most days.”

“I liked him well enough to have you three with him, didn’t I? Don’t make that noise at me. Besides, there was always an end date for me and her.” She was quiet a moment. “She asked me to go with her. I don’t think I ever told you that.”

“You said no?” he said, surprised. “Why?”

“Because this is where I wanted to build a home. This is the life I wanted, and I got it.”

“Huh,” he said.

She laughed. “I knew that was going to throw you. You thought I’d been left behind, didn’t you? You’ve always been a romantic.’

“You never told me,” he protested.

“Because it was none of your business.” She sighed quietly. “You gonna be okay, kid?”

“I think so.”

“Good. Now talk to your brother. Boba!”

Rex held the mobile away from his ear as his mother and Boba shouted at each other until Boba finally said, “Mum said I have to be nice to you because your boyfriend left.”

“Hello to you, too.”

“Yeah, hi,” Boba said. “So did he leave?”

“Yeah,” Rex said. “That happens sometimes.”

“Huh, that sucks,” Boba said, which very sympathetic coming from him.

“Yeah,” Rex agreed, “it does.”

* * *

Two months after Obi-Wan had gone home, Rex gave into the inevitable and said, “We’ll need to find another housemate.”

Ahsoka didn’t glace up from her mobile. “No we don’t.”

“You’re finally going to ask Steela to move in?”

That got her attention. “What? No. What? Why? Did she say something?”

“Come help me dry.” He threw a towel at her head, and she heaved a sign and dragged herself to the sink. “You’re heading in that direction, and you’re going to have to start thinking about it. Maybe you and her will get your own place.”

“First of all,” she said, vigorously drying a coffee mug, “we’re not there yet. And second of all, I’m not looking for any place without you.”

“We can’t live together forever.” He handed her a plate.

“Says who?” She scratched her nail at some sauce that hadn’t scrubbed off. “We’ll just have to find a house big enough for all of us.”

He started on the silverware. “We still need a housemate for now.”

“Yeah, about that,” Ahsoka said, a phrase that had never once filled him confidence. “Obi-Wan may have paid his portion of the rent before he left.”

Rex took a deep breath. “How many months?”

She turned her entire attention to a fork. “A year.”

“That _fucker_.”

“He finally got the hang of currency,” she added. “He didn’t use a single doubloon.”

“Took him long enough.” He nudged her. “Finish those up and invite Steela over. We’ll watch a movie or something.”

“No more being a sad bastard?”

“Not tonight, at least,” he said, and didn’t even mind when she punched his shoulder in happiness.

* * *

It turned to autumn without him noticing, and Rex realized his memories of Obi-Wan had tipped from bittersweet to mostly sweet. It seemed he did take after his mother; he didn’t regret it.

He laced up his trainers and said, “You want to go for a run?”

Ahsoka, curled up on the couch, glanced out the window where clouds had begun to gather. She made a face. “No. You’re going to get caught in the rain.”

“Not if I’m fast enough.”

“I’ll leave a towel out for you.”

He made a rude gesture and let himself out. Despite the threat of rain, the air was clean and crisp, and instead of his usual route, he impulsively turned towards the local park and the trails there.

It was easy to fall into the rhythm of the run, appreciating the way his body responded, and it pushed him to go further than he normally would just for the simple joy of it. By the time he turned towards home, the clouds had darkened ominously and broke open when he was still a klik out. He was immediately drenched.

He slowed out of caution, navigating the slick sidewalk while he blinked rain out of his eyes. By the time he reached the house, he dropped to a walk. Ahsoka was going to be unbearable.

Sure enough, a towel was hanging just inside the door, and he wasn’t too proud to make use of it. Scrubbing it over his hair, he nearly tripped over the shoes she left out, catching himself painfully against the doorjamb before he went sprawling. She hadn’t done that since Obi-Wan left.

“Goddamnit,” he muttered, carefully rotating his shoulder. He was going to wake up tomorrow with a nasty bruise. “Tano! Come pick up your shoes!”

There was no answer despite the fact the lights were on. He took off his trainers and set them outside before heading deeper into the house.

He draped the towel around his neck. “Ahsoka?”

He stopped in the doorway to the kitchen. He could smell the ocean.

“She went to see Steela,” Obi-Wan said, milk carton in one hand. “I made coffee, if you want a cup. I’d assume you might be cold after being caught in that.” He smiled. “Hello there.”

The rain drummed loudly against the windows, and over Obi-Wan’s shoulder Rex could see a threshold open to a beach. The water was calm as it lapped onto the shore.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Ah. Yes. That.” Obi-Wan set the milk carton on the table next to two precisely laid out cups. “Well, it turned out that even though my sentence had been commuted, I wasn’t entirely happy there any longer. As had been pointed out to me, I don’t particularly care for my title.”

Rex gripped the back of the chair. “I don’t understand.”

“I did tell you I liked it here,” Obi-Wan said, tucking his hands behind his back. “And Anakin has come a long way. Between Lord Windu and impeding fatherhood, he’s grown up. He doesn’t need me, not like he did before, and I think in time he will be much better in the role than I ever could be.”

“So you came back?” Rex asked, trying to ignore the terrible rise of hope in his throat.

“I had thought,” Obi-Wan said carefully, “to resume my residency. I had paid up through the year, after all.” His hopeful smile faltered when Rex could only stare dumbly at him.

“But Neighbors don’t do that,” he said. “You visit but you always leave.”

And then, shoulders back and head up, Obi-Wan said with that devastating sincerity, “Then I shall be the first to stay.”

Rex rounded the table and, cradling Obi-Wan’s face with shaking hands, kissed him.

“Oh,” Obi-Wan said, later, “I missed you, but I didn’t want to presume. It’s been months, and I understand if you had—”

“Shut up,” Rex said, and kissed him again. He wound his hand into Obi-Wan’s hair, tugging his head back so he could press his mouth to Obi-Wan’s pulse point. “Did you really think I’d have already moved on to someone else?”

“I’d hoped not,” Obi-Wan replied, managing to get his hand under Rex’s shirt.

“Christ, I missed you.” He backed Obi-Wan against the nearest flat surface, which turned out to be the refrigerator. Magnates scattered across the floor.

“Anakin practically threw me out,” Obi-Wan said, finding that spot behind Rex’s ear and making him gasp. “He said he was sick of me being miserable and refusing to admit it.”

“You were miserable?”

“Rex.” Obi-Wan drew back to catch his gaze. “I hated not being here.”

“I didn’t like it, either.”

Obi-Wan smiled. “Then perhaps we should make up for lost time.”

“The kitchen rule still stands,” Rex said, reluctantly drawing back. “And you should close that.”

Obi-Wan glanced towards the threshold, blinking as if he’d forgotten about it. “I opened it for you, in case you were feeling homesick.”

Rex looked out over the warm sand and the gentle swell of the waves, and said, “I like it here, too.”

“Well, in that case,” Obi-Wan said, slipping away to snap the threshold closed, “you should take me to bed.”

So Rex did.

* * *

Later, when Ahsoka returned and they showered and dressed at her impatient urging—“I missed him, too,” she said—they finally get around to the coffee.

“So you’re here for good, your highness?” Ahsoka asked, snitching the sugar from Rex.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said. “And it’s—”

“Your grace, I know,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“Actually, it’s not.” Obi-Wan set the spoon perfectly perpendicular to the cup. “I’ve renounced my title.”

Ahsoka leaned back. “Well, damn. I guess you’re no longer a class traitor, Rex.” She wasn’t fast enough to avoid Rex pulling on a braid. After batting him away, she said, “So does this mean we’ll never see what you look like?”

“But you do know what I look like.” Obi-Wan held out his palms, and instead of the raised and raw binding sigils, the skin only marked by old, faded scars that looked to have been healed for years. He smiled. “I look like this.”

* * *

The rain had tapered off during the night, and the morning sky was a bright, clean blue. Rex poured himself a cup of coffee and flicked the electrical kettle on before stepping into the back garden to call his mother.

She picked up just before it went to voicemail with an irritated, “You better be dying to call this early.”

“I just wanted to let you know me and Obi-Wan are coming to visit,” he said.

He could practically hear her eyebrows rising. “He came back, then?”

“He did.” Rex left Obi-Wan sleeping in their bed; he’d needed it. “Turns out he likes it better here.”

“I’ll get the spare room ready for you,” she said. “And I’ll make sure Boba behaves.”

“He’s not going to,” Rex said.

“Probably not,” his mother agreed. “Hey, kid, you happy?”

There was movement behind him, and he turned to see Obi-Wan yawning and poking at the kettle. It would be another hour before Ahsoka got up. Later, they would meet Steela for lunch.

“Yeah,” he said, “I am.”

* * *

This was what everyone knew: the Neighbors traveled to their world as long as there had been people to walk alongside them. They visited but always left, for this world was not their home.

But sometimes, a Neighbor would travel with a companion and choose to stay to build something new, together.

**Author's Note:**

> If you ever wonder why it takes me approximately nine years to write a single fic, know that this was originally going to be a light 5k romcom and then themes happened because this is who I am as a person and can't help myself.
> 
> As always I'm over on [tumblr](https://dharmaavocado.tumblr.com/) if you want to drop on by to see what nonsense I'm currently on.


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